Sparrow
by caremkefo
Summary: Destiel High School AU: Dean wants to get his attraction to guys out of his system, but when Castiel recognises him behind his mask at the local gay bar on Hallowe'en he freaks out. The two soon agree to an open, no-strings arrangement, but when Castiel starts to fall for Dean it becomes harder to hide from his painful past.
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Title:** Sparrow  
**Warnings:** bullying  
**Author's Note:** I initially wrote this anonymously on Tumblr for my beautiful friend Corry, but I'm now posting it here in its entirety. She chose the title, because sparrows always return home and are a symbol of true love.

* * *

_Prologue_

_Heaven or Hell is the local gay bar, and though he's underage the majority of the Hallowe'en crowd is familiar to Castiel Milton – despite their masks – because he's a regular there. Most people also know that he's still in high school so don't bother approaching him unless they're just looking to buy him a beer and exchange blowjobs, whether it be in the toilets or the back alley. He prefers to use the toilets because of the privacy granted by the cubicles, even if they are dirtier than the alleyway outside._

_He smiles at people he recognises before remembering that his face is hidden behind a rubber Frankenstein mask and nods at them instead. But then suddenly two unmistakable green eyes are looking at him from beneath a cheap, plastic Dracula mask._

_"Dean?" Castiel says, shocked._

_The flirtatious warmth in the other man's eyes drains immediately, and they become cold as a wall is erected behind them. Before Castiel can say anything Dean turns and strides off in the opposite direction._

_"Wait!" Castiel cries. He doesn't know if Dean has recognised him – probably not, because when does the high school jock pay any attention to the king of the nerds? – but he follows him out of the club anyway. When he exits the bar, however, he finds himself alone on the empty sidewalk. He wraps his arms around himself as he shivers at the sudden change in temperature, the light rain hanging in the air like a fine mist. Dean is nowhere to be seen, though a discarded Dracula mask lies at his feet._

. * * * .

Chapter 1

It's been three weeks since Castiel saw Dean Winchester at Heaven or Hell (he's sure it was Dean, because while it's not like Dean has ever looked at him before now it's like he's been making a conscious effort to ignore him when they're at school) and though Castiel's been looking out for him at the bar since then, he hasn't seen him. He even tried asking around to see if anyone else had seen him, but was unsuccessful.

He doesn't just want to assume that Dean's got a secret interest in men – it could just be that he lost a bet, and knowing Dean's team mates he wouldn't put it past them – but Castiel just _has_ to know, though he can't explain why. It's not like he's ever paid that much attention to Dean. Their social circles are polar opposites, and unlike some others students he knows he is most certainly not in awe of him.

He's just beginning to think that perhaps he should spend less time focusing on getting to the bottom of why Dean was here and more on getting off when a familiar voice suddenly calls his name.

"Balthazar!" he exclaims, a smile wiping the worry from his face. "We've missed you around here these past few months."

"Well how about showing me how much you've missed me?" Balthazar teases, kissing Castiel's cheek in greeting.

Castiel and Balthazar have an on/off 'relationship', if you can call it that. They'll often turn to each other for casual hook-ups, or to get out of awkward situations with guys who won't take 'not interested' for an answer, but then Balthazar took off for a three-month tour of Europe. A guy called Crowley had thought he could replace Balthazar, not realising that the two shared a very strong friendship underneath all their empty flirting and casual sex.

"Maybe another night," Castiel says, unable to stop himself from scanning the crowd one last time.

"You're breaking my heart," Balthazar exclaims overdramatically. "What's his name?"

"Who?"

"Whoever you're looking for!"

Castiel flushes. "I don't... I mean, I just... It's not like that."

"I'm sure," Balthazar laughs. "Go get him, tiger."

"He's not even here. So how about we get a drink and you tell me all about Europe?"

"I've got a better idea – we get drinks and you tell me about this guy."

* * *

Five minutes later Castiel is trying to describe the situation with Dean to Balthazar.

"Oh, Cas," he laughs. "You're infatuated with a straight guy!"

"I'm not infatuated," Castiel protested. "I'm just concerned. I don't even _like_ him."

"Well as it happens, I may or may not have seen your 'friend' just before I saw you. He was talking to Alastair."

"Alastair?" Castiel echoes. He knows Alastair's reputation and gets to his feet for a better look around the room. He hopes he's still in the bar, because if not...

Castiel shakes his head. "I can't see him," he says, slightly panicked.

"Go, play the knight in shining armour. If Dean isn't grateful enough to suck your cock, I'm not going anywhere soon," Balthazar says jokingly. "But I can't promise I'll still be alone when you get back!" He shouts the last part after Castiel as he weaves his way through the crowd, his drink abandoned with Balthazar as he asks people if they've seen Alastair and praying they don't say _outside_.

. * * * .

It had taken Dean two weeks to work up to going back to Heaven or Hell. Being recognised had spooked him, and he was half-afraid that Castiel planned to spread it around school. The first time he'd gone back Castiel had been outside, so he'd turned around and walked away. The second time he ordered a drink and kept his head down, but couldn't shake the feeling that he just shouldn't be there. Third time lucky – or so he'd hoped.

He'd known it was wrong to feel this way. Just once, he'd told himself. He'd thought he could get it out of his system and he'd be fine. When he slept with girls it would be like it was before, all fun and games, and it wouldn't feel like there was something lacking. He'd be able to shower after practice without worrying he'd get caught looking too long at his team mates. All it would take was one time.

He'd been ashamed to feel like this (and still _was_) but he'd also been curious. Too curious.

* * *

When Alastair's hand fists tightly in his hair, pulling his head back so he can thrust his cock deeper into his mouth, he wishes he'd listened to his gut and stayed away.

"Oh, yes," Alastair groans.

Spit dribbles down Dean's chin as he chokes, struggling to breathe around Alastair's cock. Eventually, and to his disgusted relief, warm come shoots down his throat and he reluctantly swallows it down. He gasps when Alastair finally pulls his cock from his mouth, closing his eyes as the last of Alastair's release falls on his face.

"Damn you're good," Alastair purrs. "Now let me just get a picture of this."

Dean tries to stand up but Alastair kicks him back to the ground and a hard punch to his head sends his world spinning.

"You look good with my come all over your pretty little face," he smiles coldly as the camera clicks. "For my scrapbook," he adds, pocketing the phone.

Dean tries to focus his blurred vision on Alastair – he can hear him zipping up his pants – but then he is being lifted up and pressed against the wall where Alastair's superior body weight pins him in place.

"Please, no," he begs as the older man slides his hand inside the front of his pants. He just wants to go home and pretend this never happened, but he can't wriggle out of Alastair's strong grip. "I've changed my mind. I don't want—"

"Yes you do," Alastair hisses in his ear. "If you didn't, you wouldn't be here."

"Leave him alone!" a gravelly voice demands suddenly.

Alastair's hands leave his body and Dean's knees buckle.

"Walk away or I'll castrate you here and now," the voice growls.

Alastair laughs. "You really think that a little punk like you could—"

His voice is cut off as a fist impacts with his jaw.

"Last warning."

There is a tense pause and then Dean hears footsteps leaving. A gentle hand rests on his shoulder and he tenses, afraid to look up and see who it is.

"Dean?"

He knows that voice from school. "Castiel?" he says, and turns to look at his saviour.

Two eyes are staring at him, twin pools of blue filled with concern, and he doesn't know what to say or do. _Thank you_ doesn't even cross his mind. He wants to push him away and run home. He wants to shove him against the wall and hit him until he's bleeding and he promises not to tell anyone at school. He wants to cling to him and cry until his tears run dry.

Instead Castiel drapes that god-awful trench coat he always wears around Dean's shaking shoulders, before wrapping his arms around him.

Dean feels angry and embarrassed and sick all at once, and Castiel is mercifully silent as he holds him, enabling Dean to process exactly what Alastair did to him. When he retches, throwing up beer and come until all he can taste is bile, Castiel's hand is soothing as it moves across his lower back. When he finally breaks down and sobs Castiel's arms tighten their grip around him and Dean clings to him, mumbling something about school and promises.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day at school is the same as usual. Dean pointedly ignores him, so Castiel ignores him right back. It works for them both until Gordon pins Castiel up against the wall for 'invading his personal space', despite the fact that Castiel had actually been on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Gordon," Dean interrupts quietly, placing an arm between them and pressing it against his chest until his team mate has no chance but to step back. "He's not worth it."

Gordon grumbles in protest, but lets him go. Castiel tried not to look like he's hurrying as he walks briskly away, and he slows when the double doors brush closed behind him. When they swing open again with a bang and he has a hunch it's Dean following him.

"Why did you do that?" he asks before turning around.

Dean stares at him, wrong footed. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks eventually.

"Do you think that makes us even?"

"I, uh..." Dean says, but then he draws himself up to his full height and sets his jaw. "What?"

"I am _more_ than capable of standing up for myself."

"Then why don't you?"

"I play my role just as you play yours," Castiel spits. "The weak, pathetic bookworm who doesn't know how to stand up for himself and gets bullied by the friends of the strong, macho jock who gets the girls. I am sick to _death_ of playing this game, but it's easier to play by the rules when you're not the one who makes them."

"I didn't make your so-called 'rules', Cas!"

"No, but you enforce them. By pretending to be something you're not in order to fit in you enforce this ridiculous hierarchy."

"I'm not pretending to be something I'm not!" Dean yells.

"Oh aren't you? So that wasn't you sucking Alastair's cock last night?" Castiel hisses, regretting the word immediately because he _knows_ that's not how it went down – at least not in the end.

But before he can take his words back Dean's fist is in his face and his head snaps to the side. Castiel stretches his jaw before turning back to Dean, who is trying not to show how badly his hand hurts after the impact of bone on bone.

"Winchester!" Mr Henricksen shouts as he strides over. "Am I interrupting something, boys?"

Dean looks at Castiel, fully expecting him to complain, but is surprised when he shakes his head.

"No, sir."

"Hmph," he says disbelievingly. He turns to Castiel. "Your lip is bleeding."

"So it is," Dean says. That's twice Cas has stepped in to get him out of trouble, now. "Here." He holds out a clean tissue to Castiel.

"Thank you, but I've got it," Castiel tells him stiffly, pulling his bag up on his shoulder and walking off.

. * * * .

Dean doesn't talk to Castiel for two days after that, which Castiel is totally fine with. He's studying in the library at lunch when Dean suddenly appears behind him.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Castiel frowns.

"You know," Dean says, as if that explains everything.

Castiel looks at him.

"Never mind."

"Dean!" Castiel shouts after him as he walks away, earning a stern glare from the librarian, because of all the conversations they probably need to have that one was by far the least informative.

. * * * .

At the end of the day Castiel finds himself watching Dean at baseball practice. When Gordon says something to Dean and points towards him Dean turns to look, but shrugs and shouts for someone to throw him another ball to hit. He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder as he walks over to Dean, not really knowing what he's going to say.

"We need to talk," Castiel hears himself say.

Dean just stares at him for a minute but then turns back to his mates, so Castiel turns and leaves.

"Fag," he hears Dean mutter, and his blood runs cold.

Castiel waits for Dean by his car, pissed as hell and not exactly sure why he's still hanging around.

"What do you want?" Dean asks when he eventually saunters over.

Castiel grabs him by his jacket and throws him against his car.

"Watch the paint!" Dean shouts.

Castiel hits Dean across the face. "You just outed me to the whole school," he hisses. Dean struggles in his grasp, but Castiel nearly winds him with a blow to the stomach.

"Castiel, please," Dean chokes, when Castiel shoves him hard against the car again.

"Have you _any_ idea what my parents will do if they find out?" Castiel growls. "_Do you_?"

Dean shoves him and he stumbles back, but he lashes out again and Dean falls to the ground, his face almost hitting the front tyre of his car. His fingers clench so tightly into a fist that they begin to hurt, and Dean looks from his fist to his face.

"Do it," Dean tells him.

Castiel is surprised by the blood on Dean's cheek and lower lip. Though he'd caused those injuries, he'd never actually set out to hurt Dean.

"Just do it!" Dean yells.

Castiel pauses, and stares at Dean waiting expectantly for the next blow. He wonders why Dean isn't fighting back, for Dean is strong and certainly more than capable of taking him on. His fingers uncurl as his fist slowly relaxes, and he is pained at the look of disappointment that flashes across Dean's face. He reaches out a hand to help him up.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, before grabbing his bag and walking away.

. * * * .

"Fag!" Gordon shouts the next day when he walks past.

But after yesterday Castiel had known this was going to happen, so he turns to him completely chilled out and says, "That's the most pitiful come-on I've ever heard. But if you really want me to suck your cock I'll see you behind the bleachers once you've had your lunch. Though I'll warn you now – I'll expect you to return the favour."

Gordon growls and moves towards him but Castiel, instead of stepping back, steps into Gordon's space and holds his gaze.

"Leave it," Dean tells him, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Don't expect me to thank you, Winchester," Castiel says coolly.

Dean watches Castiel as he walks away, and when his team mates speculate over what has gotten into Castiel he mutters to himself, "He got fed up playing the game."

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean says, louder this time. "Come on – I'm starved. Let's grab something to eat."

. * * * .

At the end of the day Dean comes to find Castiel in the library again.

"So where's the trench?" he asks, dumping his bag unceremoniously on the table as he takes a seat beside Cas.

Castiel has exchanged his ill-fitting coat for a beige v-neck jumper that hugs his slim figure and the collar of his white shirt, usually buttoned up to the neck where the knot of his tie looks ready to strangle him, hangs open and loose. The blue tie is nowhere to be seen.

"I never liked it," Castiel states simply.

"Oh," is all Dean says. He's never had an opinion of it one way or the other except that he thought it looked stupid, but seeing how Cas looks now he decides he hates the coat.

Castiel says nothing as he continues to read, occasionally pausing to takes notes. Dean hums quietly to himself.

"What do you want, Dean?" Cas sighs eventually.

"Nothing! I just... You never answered me the other day."

"You mean when you asked me a vague question and then ran away?"

Dean's cheeks grow warm. "Yeah."

Castiel turns to him. "What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"How do you, you know, be gay?"

"I just am."

"No, I mean..." Dean licks his lips. "Don't you feel… _wrong_?"

"Dean, contrary to what my parents would tell you, I do not believe that God gives a _damn_ who you fuck."

"I don't believe in God."

"Then why do you think being gay is so wrong? That view stems from an out-dated religion."

Dean opens and closes his mouth several times.

"Liking dick doesn't make you any less of a man, Dean," Castiel tells him, as if he could read Dean's mind.

"I don't like dick!" Dean hisses loudly, and he's glad that the library is empty.

"Then why were you at Heaven or Hell?"

"I... Why were you?" Dean shoots back.

Castiel chuckles. "Because I _do_ like dick."

Dean flushes, feeling stupid.

"Are you going back?" Castiel asks.

"No," Dean answers too quickly.

Castiel gathers his things together. "I guess I'll maybe see you there, then," he smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean looks around him nervously as he walks back into Heaven or Hell, hoping that Alastair isn't there. He wasn't going to come back, really he wasn't, but Castiel's words had been ringing in his ears for the past week.

'_I guess __I'll _maybe see you there, then.'

A tiny part of his mind had been dwelling on them, wondering if maybe that had been an invitation – but whether it was 'you know you want to go back' or 'I'd like to see you there' he wasn't sure.

And he isn't sure how he felt about the fact that maybe Castiel had sort-of-maybe-but-not-really asked him out.

His one-off with Alastair hasn't driven the thoughts from his head, but nor has it put him off. He can't exactly see Castiel shoving his cock down someone's unwilling throat, and at that thought Dean closes his eyes and shudders. He doesn't even know what he's doing here. He isn't ready to come back.

But then he sees a mop of dark hair and all he can think is _Cas_.

He follows the guy up to the bar, but then realises it's not him. He doesn't even know if Castiel will be there tonight, so he orders a beer and settles back to watch and wait.

It doesn't take long for guys to start eyeing him up, though, so he drops his gaze to his drink and turns away. He's not here for them. When a guy whose name he doesn't catch taps him on the shoulder he flinches and mumbles that he's waiting for someone.

"His name wouldn't be Castiel, would it?"

Dean jerks his head up.

"Ah, so it _is_ you – I thought I recognised you from the other night when dear Cas was tearing his hair out with worry when I told him you'd been seen talking to that snake, Alastair."

"Who the fuck are you?" Wait, Cas had been worried about him?

The other man tuts. "And you talk to your mother with that mouth?"

Dean's stomach clenches and he looks at the beer he is swirling around in his glass.

"Balthazar," the man says, realising he's said something wrong. "I'm a friend of Cas."

"Oh. Right."

"Yes, our dear friend is somewhat indisposed at the moment."

"Huh?" Dean frowns.

"Toilets," Balthazar says, nodding in the direction of the men's.

Dean gets off his stool and drains the last of his beer. "I might just go find him. I need to talk to him."

"He'll have a hard job answering you with his mouth full!" Balthazar jokes.

Dean flushes but keeps on walking. He freezes when he pushes open the door to the toilets because Castiel is on his knees with his back to him and some guy's dick in his mouth, despite there being three empty cubicles. With doors. He should turn around and walk away, he thinks, but his feet don't move. Instead, his hand drops and the door swings shut behind him.

"We don't want an audience!" the guy complains.

Dean opens his mouth to apologise but no words come out.

But then Castiel pulls off him and, without even turning around to see who has just walked in, looks up at the guy he's blowing. "If he wants to watch, let him watch."

The other guy grunts and tightens his grip on Castiel's hair, moving his mouth back to his dick.

Dean swallows thickly but doesn't look away. He can't. It's just weird seeing two guys so casual about what they're doing, and Castiel's moans are sparking an interest in his own dick.

When the guy finishes and heads towards the exit, Dean steps aside to let him leave.

"Next time I catch you watching me it'll be the last thing you see," he warns Dean, who nods his understanding.

Castiel moves to the sink and rinses his mouth out before turning to see who their audience was.

"Dean," he says calmly, as if Dean hadn't just been watching him blow some random guy.

"Cas," is all he manages to respond with.

"So you came."

"Yeah. Your friend – Balthazar, is it? – told me you were in here," he says when Castiel says nothing.

"Word to the wise, Dean – not everyone is so tolerant of voyeurs."

"I wasn't... I mean, I just—"

"I get it, Dean. I was once as green as you."

"I'm not—" He sighs. "I came because I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot," Castiel says.

"Would you... Could we..." Talking to women is easy, in Dean's experience, and he can't believe how difficult it is to say the same thing to a guy. "I mean, how would you feel if we—"

"Dean, I'm going to stop you right there." Castiel looks at Dean, sees the wariness in his face, and almost stops himself from continuing. Almost. "I'm not going to fool around with you. Sex is fun, and showing someone the ropes... Well, that's _not_ fun." He moves to leave but Dean stands in his way.

"Please," Dean repeats, and it's barely a whisper.

"Dean—"

"You _know_ what happened to me last time! I can't..." Dean swallows. "Are you really going to make me go out there and pick up some random guy I don't know?"

"If you'd asked around, Dean, there isn't a single person here who wouldn't have told you Alastair was bad news." Castiel sighs. "I'll point you in the direction of a few decent guys—"

"I don't want a few decent guys, Cas! I want—" Dean bites his lip.

"What?" Castiel prompts when Dean doesn't continue. "What do you want?"

"I want someone I can trust," he mumbles.

Castiel's eyes widen in surprise.

"I trust you," Dean says, almost grudgingly. "I don't want to, because you're at school and you could easily spread it around that I'm... That we..." He gestures weakly. "Anyway, you haven't, and I don't think you will, and..." He looks desperately at Castiel. "_Please_, Cas! You can't do this to me, man. I never beg anyone for anything but I'm begging you for this!"

Castiel closes his eyes and takes a breath. The image of Dean on his knees at Alastair's feet flashes before his eyes, and he can almost feel Dean clinging to him afterwards. He opens his eyes and steps towards Dean, who steps backwards until his back hits the toilet door. He curls one hand behind Dean's head, brushing his fingers through his short hair, and Dean licks his lips out of habit. He moves his other hand to Dean's jeans, slipping his fingers over the waist and tugging Dean towards him. When Dean doesn't move to pull away Castiel leans in and places a gentle kiss on his lips, allowing Dean to move away if he wants to. But Dean leans into him and pushes his tongue between Castiel's lips and Cas smiles, shoving Dean hard against the door and kissing him back.

It feels strange to Dean to have someone kissing him so roughly and thoroughly, for no girl he's been with has been this dominant, and he tries not to think of the fact that Cas recently swallowed some other guy's spunk.

Castiel can taste beer on Dean's tongue, and he can sense him holding back. Even still, he's a great kisser, and Castiel thinks that if Dean can get used to the idea of kissing another guy and stop holding back he'll be an amazing one. The thought makes him want far more than he has any right to. When Dean brings his hands up to rest on Castiel's hips Cas pulls back. Dean's cheeks are flushed and he suddenly looks scared.

"Fine," Castiel says, far too composed for the kiss they just shared. "Meet me here tomorrow."

"When?"

"Whenever you get here."

Castiel moves past him and out into the bar once again, but Dean stays where he is and wonders what the fuck just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dean can't concentrate in class when all he can think about was that he has a date, however casual, with a guy tonight. And not just any guy, but the last guy he'd be caught dead talking to. He is so distracted, in fact, that Miss Moseley gives him detention.

* * *

By the time he gets to Heaven and Hell that night, he's desperate to see Cas. And he does – he just doesn't expect to see Cas with his tongue down Balthazar's throat. He wonders if Balthazar has made Cas a better offer, and the thought makes him want to run away because it only sinks in then just how badly he wants this. But his treacherous feet take him over to the bar to stand right beside them and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"Dean!" Castiel sounds surprised to see him. "I didn't think you'd be here quite so soon."

"Clearly," he mutters.

Castiel's eyes narrow but he says nothing, instead turning to Balthazar and giving him a farewell kiss.

Once they're in the car and Dean's driving them out of town, he turns to Cas and says, "So you and Balthazar, huh?"

"Don't even think about going there, Dean."

"What? No! No, I don't want a threesome with him, I just meant that you and he are, you know."

"Seeing each other?"

"Yeah."

"My apologies, Dean," Castiel sighs, and rubs his temple with two fingers. "We just keep getting asked, but the answer never changes: hell no."

"But you and he _are_ together, yes?"

Castiel looks disparagingly across at Dean. "We hook up sometimes. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No."

"Am I wrong in thinking that you'll keep sleeping with girls from school for as long as this arrangement lasts?"

"No."

"Then let's just agree not to talk about each other's sex lives."

"Ok."

Dean drives in silence for a moment.

"So this thing isn't a one-off?"

Castiel looks at him.

"It's just, you said, you know, 'for as long as we've got this thing going', or whatever."

"I suppose there is the possibility of a repeat performance somewhere down the line," Castiel concedes. "But for the moment we're just going to take it slow."

"Slow, huh?"

"Yes, Dean, slow."

"Am I going to get blue balls?" Dean jokes.

"Do you have a right hand?" Cas snaps.

Dean's grin disappears.

"I'm going to try to give you the first gay experience you _should_ have had. Hopefully that should help take the edge of your memories of—"

"Don't say it," Dean cuts him off harshly.

Castiel falls silent.

When Dean parks up Castiel looks around with interest. "Where are we?"

"The very edge of my Uncle Bobby's land. I mean, he's not _really_ my uncle, but... Anyway, he won't be out here. He's done his lower back in at the moment straining himself at the yard, so he's kind of crippled for now."

"Yard?"

"Yeah. He's a mechanic – got his own business and everything."

"This is the garage you work at?"

"How did you know about that?"

Castiel shrugs. "I thought everyone knew."

Dean looks at him. "And I thought I kept my life private."

Castiel raises his eyebrows. "I can't help what I know, Dean. It's not like I go out of my way to clog my brain up with useless Dean Winchester trivia."

There's an awkward silence until Dean says, "So how do you want to do this?"

"Are we doing it in here?"

Dean looks around. "Yeah."

But Castiel doesn't look impressed.

"What?"

"There's not much room, is there?"

Dean casts a glance over his shoulder at the back seat. "There's enough."

"If you say so."

"Hey, I've done this before."

"Of course you have."

"Hey!" Dean snaps angrily. "It's not like blow jobs in a toilet are any classier than a back seat fuck!"

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"I can promise you this much, anyway," Dean says, his tone still bitter, "it's going to be a lot cleaner in here than the toilet floor back there."

Castiel snorts, and some of the tension leaves the car. "Yes, well, that's not hard."

"A bit like something else," Dean says, sliding a hand over to Castiel's lap.

But Castiel slaps his hand away.

"What?" Dean exclaims in surprise. "I thought we were going to—"

"Yes, but I'm not diving straight in at the deep end, here," Castiel tells him.

Dean's ass clenches involuntarily at the image Castiel's words put in his head and he fidgets in his seat. Castiel isn't diving in _anywhere_ with him.

"And I've heard better come-on lines in cheap pornos," Castiel continues. "You're trying too hard. Dean?" he asks, when Dean remains silent.

Dean flushes. "I'm sorry, I've just never—"

"You've made out with girls, yes?"

"Several," Dean nods.

"Because it's the same thing, except you're not the only one in the car with a dick. You don't have to treat me any differently."

Dean nods. "Sorry."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Back seat," he tells him.

"Yeah. Right," Dean mutters, and climbs out of the car.

* * *

"So how far do you want to go?"

"I think the question is how far do _you_ want to go, Dean."

"Long-term? I don't know. Short-term? You're the one with the whole 'going slow' plan."

"Lie back," Castiel tells him. "Get comfortable."

Dean moves until he's as comfortable as he's going to get.

"I'm going to touch you, Dean," Castiel tells him. "I want you to get used to a man touching you. I want you to know _I'm_ touching you. I don't want you to pretend I'm not me. That I'm not another guy." It won't be good for either of them if Dean pretends he's a girl just to ease his insecurities.

"I don't want to pretend," Dean breathes.

"Good."

Castiel trails his fingers slowly down Dean's chest to the bottom of his t-shirt, where he slides his hands under and over his stomach. Dean's muscles flutter under his fingertips, his breathing fast and shallow, and Castiel smiles softly at him. He thought Dean would put on more of a show; be more reluctant to let Castiel take the lead. He palms up his chest, his fingers rubbing over Dean's nipples, which unleashes a groan from somewhere in the back of Dean's throat.

"Cas," he breathes, and Castiel starts.

Only Balthazar has ever called him Cas and it annoys him, though he's long stopped asking him to stop because it never gets him anywhere. But surprisingly it sounds so natural on Dean's tongue, so he doesn't say anything. He slides the thin fabric of Dean's t-shirt up and Dean lifts his arms up so that Castiel can remove it, and it is discarded into the footwell.

Castiel bites his lip, for if he'd ever pictured Dean naked (which he hasn't) it wouldn't have been as good as seeing him in the flesh.

"Cas?" Dean asks

Castiel realises that he's been still and staring for far too long. "You're beautiful," he says.

Dean flushes and flashes him failed attempt at a cocky smirk. "You're not to bad yourself, you know."

"How would you know?" Castiel teases.

"Well, let's see then," Dean says, moving his hands to Castiel's shirt.

"No," he says, grabbing Dean's wrists. "Tonight is all about you."

"Dude, could you sound like any more of a chick?" Dean protests, but Castiel detects a hint of pleasure under his words and he finds himself wondering if Dean's the kind of guy who always makes sure he gets his girl off.

He lets his fingers travel over Dean's chest and ribs, learning where he's most sensitive and where elicits more delicious moans, and traces a hand over a scar on his side.

"I got that in a fight," Dean says unprompted, and it sounds rehearsed.

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to impress me?"

"No, I just—"

"Because the next thing you'll tell me is that the girls lap that shit up."

Dean can't look Castiel in the eye.

"How did it really happen?" he pushes.

Dean's eyes flick up to him and for the first time Castiel feels like he's truly seeing Dean, and it hurts him more than it should to realise that the real Dean is so small and vulnerable.

"My mom died in a fire when I was four," he says, and it's barely a whisper. "It was the middle of the night. My dad gave me Sam – he was only six months old – and I carried him out so dad could go back in to try to save mom. A window exploded just as I got out, and glass flew everywhere. I held Sam close so it didn't hurt him, but I got this big piece..." he trailed off, motioning at the scar that Castiel was now subconsciously rubbing his fingers over.

"Oh, Dean..." he says. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't need your pity, Cas," Dean says roughly.

"It's not pity, Dean – it's sympathy," Castiel tells him, but he can see Dean's defences being put in place again.

"Whatever. I don't need it."

"You remember your mother, don't you?" Castiel asks softly.

"Yeah. Of course I do."

"You're lucky."

"Lucky? My mom is _dead_!"

"But you remember her," Castiel says. "I never knew mine. She left when I was one year old."

"She... left?" Dean echoes.

"My father is overbearing, and she couldn't take it any more. He sent me and my brothers and sister away to live with our uncle until the divorce was over so she couldn't steal us away, and he was granted full custody. We have no photographs, and we are forbidden from talking about her." Castiel doesn't know why he's telling Dean any of this, because it's none of his business, but he finds that he can't stop talking. "My sister ran away to find our mother the day she turned fourteen, and I haven't seen or head from her these past four years. I don't know if she found her, or even if she's still alive."

"Shit, Cas." Something stirs in Dean's mind. "But that day you beat the shit out of me – you spoke about both your parents," he says questioningly.

Castiel shrugs. "I lied. It's easier to pretend that you come from a perfect family than it is to admit that it's broken. At fourteen my sister knew that her life could be better, and at fifteen I knew I wasn't like my brothers. The only difference it that she had the courage to leave." Castiel bites his lip before he can say anything else, for he's never told anyone this before – not even Balthazar. But it's too late, for he's already said too much to Dean.

Dean, however, is just looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. He lifts a hand to Castiel's face, and Castiel leans into his touch. "We don't have to do this tonight, you know," he says.

"I want to," Castiel tells him. "Don't you?"

"I just thought... We kind of got really serious there."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Castiel focuses all his attention on Dean's body, then, and Dean soon forgets about everything that isn't the feel of Castiel's lips on his skin.

Somewhere along the line Dean loses his jeans, and when Castiel grips the waistband of his boxers, he pauses. "You can ask me to stop at any time," he whispers to Dean.

"Don't stop," Dean tells him, shaking his head. "I don't want you to stop."

"Good," he smiles. "Because I don't want to stop."

Castiel can do wicked things with his tongue, Dean decides as Castiel kisses him. He just wishes he'd put his tongue to good use somewhere else. But Cas takes his time, kissing and biting and sucking his way down Dean's body, but not hard enough that he'll still be wearing the marks tomorrow. Eventually Cas licks a teasing line along Dean's cock, and he whines needily.

"Cas..."

But he loses the ability to speak when Cas swallows him down, inching him deeper and deeper into his warm, wet mouth.

Cas bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks, and he thinks he'd have been more comfortable on his knees getting his mouth fucked - but the noises Dean is making are going straight to his own cock, ignored and pressing insistently against the front of his jeans. Eventually his nose rubs against the dark hair at the base of Dean's cock, and he knows he's showing off, but he wants Dean to have good memories of this night - of being with a guy - though he can't deny that there's a small part of him that wants Dean to remember _him_.

Cas moves his mouth to Dean's balls, and suddenly he's so close. "Cas, please..." he begs breathily, head tipped back against the window. "I need—"

"Look at me," Cas says, moving so he's leaning over Dean. "I want to see you when you come."

When Dean comes all over his stomach and Cas's hand, he finds it both disgusting and strangely hot that Castiel leans over him and licks it off his stomach. When the last trace of his orgasm has been licked from his skin, Castiel sits backs and licks his fingers clean. The way Cas swallows his fingers down, sucking on each one before pulling it from his mouth with a wet _pop_ while looking him straight in the eye, would be enough to get him hard again if he wasn't still riding the buzz of his release. But even though Dean is too fucked out to even think about moving, he can see that Castiel is straining against the front of his pants. He lifts a lazy foot to press against his erection.

"I want to watch you come, Cas."

Castiel's jaw drops, and for a guy who's usually so composed Dean finds this funny.

"Come for me, Cas."

Castiel doesn't take his eyes from Dean's as he lowers his zip and moves his underwear aside. He rolls his thumb over the head and bites his lip, muffling a soft moan. Dean is watching, his mouth slightly open, as Castiel strokes himself. It doesn't take him long to come.

* * *

Afterwards, they are both sitting slouched in the corners of the back seat. Castiel has one leg tucked underneath himself, and one of Dean's legs is bent across his lap. He runs his left hand up and down Dean's thigh while his right rests on his own foot.

"You seemed to have an awful lot of fun for someone who didn't want to do this in the first place," Dean comments with a satisfied grin.

"How was it for you?" Castiel asks tentatively. He doesn't want to scare Dean off.

"That was pretty awesome," Dean admits.

"So you'd do it again?"

"Definitely."

Castiel nods, almost to himself.

"So when can we?" Dean asks.

"Sometime next week," Castiel says casually, though what he really wants to say is _tomorrow_. It turns out that Dean isn't as straightforward and shallow as Castiel had assumed he was, and now he's determined to unravel the enigma that is Dean Winchester.

Dean looks almost disappointed that they won't be doing this any sooner.

"I'm assuming you want this to remain between you and me?" Castiel asks, more to remind himself that this isn't a permanent thing than anything else.

"Yeah," Dean says quickly. "If you don't mind."

"Why should I mind?" Castiel says, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice. "I mean, it's not like you're ashamed to be seen talking to me."

Dean has the grace to look abashed. "It's not that I don't _like_ you. You're not the freak I thought you were."

"Thank you so much," Castiel says dryly.

"I mean—"

"I know what you meant," Castiel cuts him off. "And I suppose that you're only _half_ the jerk I thought you were," he concedes with a smirk.

Dean laughs, and when he does he throws his head right back, and Castiel wants to suck red marks onto his skin so that when Dean looks at himself in the mirror he thinks of him.

"We should probably head back," he says eventually. "Do you want dropped at the club, or I can take you home if you like..."

"The club will be fine. If Balthazar is still there, which I doubt, I'm sure he'll be glad to see that you haven't murdered me."

. * * * .

If there's a part of Castiel that hopes Dean will treat him any differently in school, even if it's just a nod in passing, it's very quickly dashed first thing Monday morning. In fact Dean doesn't even notice him, for he's so busy shoving his tongue in Lisa's face. He can't explain why he feels just a little disappointed, even if he'd known it would be this way; Dean needs to reaffirm is heterosexuality for himself, and for everyone else in the school, even if he can't erase the memory from his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Castiel sees Dean come into Heaven or Hell a couple of times the next week, ever hopeful, but he always makes a point of being 'busy' with another guy. He wants to remind Dean that he doesn't have Castiel on a leash. He also wants to remind himself that it's nothing serious, because he just can't get the image of Dean laid out naked beneath him out of his head – so much so, that at one point he thinks he might have let slip a moaned _Dean_ when someone else is sucking him off.

In fact, for someone who hadn't wanted to fumble around with a sexually insecure jock in the first place, Castiel thinks he seems to be doing a pretty good job of fucking that up. He tries to deny to himself that he casts furtive looks at Dean cross the canteen, or slows his pace when he passes the playing fields at the end of the day so he can watch Dean at practice, but he's never been very good at lying to himself.

. * * * .

It's a week and a half before Cas trusts himself to leave with Dean, and he can tell that Dean wants it just as much as he does. Dean drives them back out to Bobby's land, fingers tapping impatiently on the wheel while AC/DC blares from the speakers, and neither of them say a word.

Dean's barely turned the engine off when Castiel is climbing out of the car and into the back seat.

"So what do you want to do?" Dean asks, still in the front.

Castiel looks at him. "Tonight you get me."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Well?" Castiel asks, lifting his hands to his neck and starting to unbutton his shirt. "Are you going to join me, or am I putting on a show? You'll find I'm a lot different from the likes of _Lisa_," he adds, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he says her name, but Dean misses it. He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor, but then he smiles. "If you're a very good boy maybe I'll suck you off."

Dean climbs into the back seat quicker than he can say _yes, please_.

* * *

When Dean has Castiel naked beneath him, it's all wrong. There are no curves – everything is lean muscle. He's torn between lust and guilt as he runs his hands along the flat plains, before finally bowing his head to suck on Castiel's nipples.

"Dean!" he gasps, writhing underneath Dean when he gently nips one between his teeth.

Dean kisses his way down Castiel's chest, licking into his naval. Castiel's hips are slim when he ghosts his hands over them. And he's pale – there's no embarrassed flush as he wonders if he's too fat or too thin; he is so confident in himself that he doesn't even care that Dean might bigger than him (which Dean thinks he is). Dean wants to be able to just swallow him down like he's seen in a few pornos he's watched because he figures that's what Castiel would want, but Alastair is still to fresh in his mind.

Castiel manoeuvres himself up to give Dean more room, not particularly enjoying the cramped back seat but knowing they've got nowhere else to go, and is simultaneously disappointed, infuriated, and excited when Dean kisses the insides of his thighs, licking and sucking on the skin. He wants so badly to be sprawled out, completely open to Dean's touches because this - just giving himself to Dean - is quite possibly the best thing he's ever done. He hums, both in pleasure and displeasure, as Dean touches him, teasing him with more here and there.

"Dean!" he gasps, wanting to touch himself but knowing that he'd agreed to let Dean set the pace. "Touch me."

"I am touching you, Cas," Dean grins, sliding his hands up and down Castiel's thighs. He laughs when Castiel tips his head back in frustration and growls.

Dean relents then, and runs a firm hand up and down Castiel's cock.

_Finally_, is all Castiel can think.

* * *

Afterwards Cas lies on his back with his feet dangling out of the window and his head on Dean's lap while Dean brushes one hand through his hair. Dean's other hand is draped over him, so Cas takes it in his own and intertwines their fingers. It's so relaxed that if Castiel were to close his eyes he'd be able to pretend that he wasn't the skeleton in Dean's closet. He's always wanted something like this, but he isn't going to let himself forget that this isn't something he gets to keep.

"I thought you said you'd suck me off?" Dean asks suddenly, with humour in his voice.

"I said _maybe_. And if you were good," Castiel states.

"So you're telling me I was bad? Thanks a lot."

"No, Dean. You were good."

"Then—"

"I didn't say tonight," Castiel smiles teasingly.

Dean pokes him in the side. "So that means there's going to be a next time, then?"

_Yes_, Castiel thinks. _For as long as you want this_. But what he says is, "Fuck."

"Cas?"

Shit. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I forgot I promised my parents— my dad," he corrects himself, when he remembers that he told Dean the truth, "that I'd be home by ten." It's a lie, but Dean won't know.

"I guess we'd better get dressed then," Dean sighs reluctantly.

"Yes," Castiel agrees.

The ride back to Castiel's home seems to take forever, and he hates how much he's enjoying Dean when he knows it's not a permanent thing. Dean will get bored and move on, or freak out over the possibility of people finding out. The knowledge hurts him, but at the same time it's a lesser pain than if he let himself get too involved.

. * * * .

They continue to meet up periodically, though they don't see each other over Christmas break. Cas knows Dean spent New Year with Lisa Braeden, for the photos are all over Facebook, but he tries not to think about it when he's jerking off to memories of Dean. The first time they meet up after New Year is quick and needy, and Cas isn't sure which of them was more desperate for it as they rut up against each other in the back seat. Soon once every couple of weeks turns into a couple of times a week, and then suddenly it's March and Cas wonders where the months have gone.

Dean slowly grows more relaxed in Castiel's company as time goes by, and Castiel stops having to guide his hands because Dean is learning where he likes to be touched, where gives him greater pleasure, and it's confusing because the only other person to ever have paid that much attention to him is Balthazar. Dean also works himself up to sucking Cas off for the first time, and it might be sloppy and inexperienced but he gives it freely, despite Cas insisting that he doesn't have to if he's not really up for it. And though he tells himself every time he leaves Dean that it might be their last time, he can't ignore the _want_ eating him up inside.

But then one night Dean says the words Castiel fears.

* * *

Dean's got Cas under him, and he's aware that this thing between them has become familiar. He's never had this with any girl he's ever been with, and that scares him. This isn't what he wanted when he asked Cas if they could fool around. This was more – so much more. He's pressing kisses into Castiel's neck, when he decides that this has to end. That's what he wants to say, but "I want to fuck you, Cas," is what he hears coming out of his mouth. And he does, he realises. He really does.

Castiel freezes beneath him and Dean stops when he feels him tense. "Cas?"

Cas is shaking his head and staring at Dean wide-eyed.

"Have you ever—"

"I have. Once."

"You didn't like it?"

Dean is looking at him like he really cares about how Cas feels, and Castiel closes his eyes before he forgets that they're not actually together. He's stopped trying not to pretend, and he knows that when this ends he's going to get hurt. But in the mean time he gets to feel normal - just like any other guy in a relationship - and gets to forget that he's actually messed up.

He doesn't know how to tell Dean that he doesn't like getting fucked, but more than that his past experience wasn't exactly a positive one, and that he hasn't let anyone fuck him since then – not even Balthazar. Cas prefers to be the one doing the fucking, if they get that far. But the more he thinks about it the more he realises that he wouldn't mind letting Dean fuck him, if that was what he wanted.

"I don't let anyone fuck me if I haven't fucked them first," he says.

Dean's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "Oh."

Castiel knows that Dean isn't ready for this and hopes that his declaration will put an end to any talk of fucking – but at the same time he really wants to fuck Dean.

"Especially if they haven't done this before," he adds.

"Cas," Dean starts hesitantly. "I don't—"

"Then why should I?"

Dean's sure that in his dad's military eyes, finding out his son prefers men to women would make his son less of a man. It's just the way his dad is, and the way he's raised Dean. At the same time, when he's with Cas Dean can't imagine being with another guy. When he's with Cas, it's just Cas. It's when he's not with Cas that he can't get his head around how he feels – though he knows that women leave him feeling unfulfilled. But if he was to bend over and take it from him... Being gay is one thing, but taking another guy's cock up his ass is another. Could he do that?

He doesn't realise he's mumbling until Cas states flatly, "You've already taken my cock in your mouth."

Dean flushes. "Okay," he says quietly.

His words are so quiet Castiel is at first sure he's imagined them.

"Okay," Dean repeats, slightly louder this time.

"Okay," Castiel echoes back at him.

"How do we—"

"Not here," Castiel tells him.

"My dad's out tonight," Dean says, thinking that it has to be now or never so that he doesn't change his mind. "And Sam's studying with a friend."

Castiel nods. "Okay."

"Okay," Dean says nervously.

And that seems to be the word that's going to get both of them through this, Castiel thinks, as he tells himself that it's going to be okay.

* * *

"Sam? Dad?" Dean shouts as he walks in, just to make sure, but the house is silent. He turns back to Cas. "It's okay. Come on."

Castiel shuts the door behind him and looks around. There are family photos on display, which isn't something you would see in his own house, and Castiel thinks that it's nice. It's homely. They stand awkwardly in the hall for a moment.

"So, do you want a drink or anything?" Dean offers.

Castiel cocks his head and looks pointedly at Dean.

"Uh, right, yeah." He clears his throat. "My room's upstairs."

Castiel follows Dean up to his room, and smiles to himself as Dean hurriedly kicks a lot of magazines under his bed. He wonders briefly if Dean has a subscription to _Busty Asian Beauties_, because there's a small pile, possibly a couple of months worth, that look untouched.

"So, uh, how exactly do we do this?" Dean asks, feeling like a nervous virgin. He mentally kicks himself, because they shouldn't be doing this _now_ - he should have given himself some time to look it up so he'd know what to expect.

"You should probably shower first," Cas advises.

It takes Dean a second for the penny to drop, and when it does his face turns red. "Right. Okay. Yeah." And he flees the room without another word.

Castiel sits on the edge of Dean's bed and looks around. It's messy and lived in, unlike his own room. There are posters of 80's rock bands (which given the music Dean plays in the car doesn't surprise him), a _Busty Asian Beauties_ calendar hanging on the wall beside his bed with things like _baseball practice_ scribbled on it (but no homework deadlines, he notes), and a poster of Miss October is on the back of his door. Upon closer inspection, it turns out that if you bought the calendar you could sent away for your choice of 'month', so clearly Miss October had something none of the other months did. Perhaps she was bustier than all the others, Castiel muses. Personally she does nothing for him.

He thinks of his own bare room, decorated only with a print of Hans Memling's 'The Last Judgement' (which used to terrify him as a child, and was - he believed - responsible for the recurring nightmares he'd had until the age of twelve, in which he was dragged to Hell and burned alive) and a wooden crucifix that hung above his bed.

He likes Dean's room, he decides, even if he disapproves of the half-naked women. Just as he thinks about kicking off his shoes Dean comes back, with a towel wrapped round his waist.

"Hey," he says softly, when Cas looks over at him.

"Hey," Castiel smiles back.

They both look at each other with the realisation that _this is it_, and Castiel pats the bed beside him. "Do you still want to do this?" he asks.

"Yeah," Dean nods.

"Okay."

"Okay."

They lie down, kissing and touching in ways that are now familiar to them both, but Dean tenses as Castiel's soft hands stroke up under the towel. "Cas, I..." He trails off, shaking his head.

"I know you're scared," Cas whispers. "I would be, too, if Alastair had—"

Dean flips them and pins Castiel beneath him roughly. "You don't say that name to me!" he hisses angrily.

"I'm sorry," Castiel murmurs, wiping away a tear from the corner of Dean's eye that Dean isn't even aware of shedding.

Dean rolls off Cas and covers his face with an arm. "No, I'm sorry, Cas. I shouldn't get mad at you."

"I'll stop if you ask me to," Castiel says, though he shouldn't need to. "You know that, right?"

Dean nods. "Yeah, I know."

Castiel runs his fingers through Dean's hair, still damp from his shower, and whispers, "It's okay, Dean."

Dean looks at him, then, and Castiel figures he was right – _okay_ is going to get them through this.

Cas moves off the bed and strips down while Dean tosses his towel on the floor, and then they're together again, kissing and touching and stroking like they've known each other's bodies all their lives.

* * *

Dean tenses and hisses at the intrusion when a single slick finger pushes inside of him.

"Relax, Dean – I don't want this to hurt you."

Dean squeezes his eyes tightly shut as he tries to _will_ his body to relax.

"Look at me," Castiel whispers. "_Look_ at me."

Dean looks at Cas, and seeing the worry in his eyes makes it easier for him to relax because he can see that _Cas genuinely cares_. As Castiel's finger moves inside him, Dean never takes his eyes off him.

"Two fingers?" Castiel asks.

Dean bites his lip and nods. It burns more than with just one, but as Castiel scissors and twists his fingers the burn fades, then suddenly he's crying out and his hips are arching off the bed and Castiel is looking at him with a smug grin. Once they're both satisfied that Dean is stretched enough, however, they need to get down to it. Castiel wants to look at Dean as they fuck, but Dean thinks he'll be too uncomfortable like that; however neither does he want to be on his hands and knees.

"I'm not a dog," he complains when Castiel suggests it, so instead Castiel curls around behind him. "And I'm not a little spoon," he grumbles half-heartedly, before several kisses to the back of his neck shut him up.

Castiel strokes Dean's thigh reassuringly as he pushes into him, and Dean groans as he's filled.

"Too much?" Castiel asks, slightly worried.

"It's okay," Dean grunts. "Just give me a minute."

Castiel immediately stills until Dean presses back against him and then he's all the way in.

"I guess it's too late to back out now!" Dean chokes out a laugh.

Castiel shakes his head. "It's never too late, Dean," he tells him seriously.

"No, I didn't mean—"

But Castiel is sucking red marks into his neck, branding him for all to see, and Dean thinks that maybe it doesn't matter what he says, for Castiel always seems to know what he means. Castiel fucks him slowly and lazily, and even Dean would admit that bottoming isn't such a bad thing.

"Are you okay?" Cas whispers in his ear.

"Yeah. You?"

"I wish I could see you," he admits.

Dean shifts and goes from feeling too full to feeling too empty when Cas pulls out, which is strange. "Come here," he says, as he rolls onto his back and pulls Cas down on him. They kiss for a moment, then Cas pulls back and hooks one of Dean's legs over his shoulder. He eases himself back in and Dean finds himself thinking that it's a lot easier and _oh so much better_ this time when Cas begins to move.

"You can fuck me harder," Dean says after a minute, and it's almost like those are the words Cas has been waiting for.

Castiel leans down to kiss him, and Dean cries out in a strange mixture of pain and relief as Castiel thrusts quicker and deeper into him.

"More," he whimpers. "More."

Castiel obliges, and Dean groans because he's so close but so far. He goes to move his hand to his cock but Castiel's beats him there, and soon it's sticky and messy and he's clenching down on Castiel who gasps loudly.

"That was awesome," he breathes when Castiel slips out from him and tosses his condom in the bin, before coming back to lie down next to him. Cas runs his fingers through Dean's hair, and Dean smiles lazily at him. "Do you always carry lube in your pocket?" he smiles. "Or were you hoping to get lucky with me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Castiel laughs, even though it's the truth. "It's always helpful to be prepared."

"Yeah," Dean says. "I bet with you it is."

Castiel gets out of bed and gathers his clothes.

All Dean wants to do is doze for a while, but he sits up and looks at Cas. "Where are you going?"

"You make me sound like a whore," Cas exclaims harshly. "I don't have to put up with that."

"You're not a whore, Cas!" Okay, so maybe Cas doesn't always know what he's saying. "I just meant that you're gay!"

Castiel stops, still standing on one leg with a foot in his jeans.

"Come here."

Castiel finally puts his other foot back on the floor, but doesn't move.

"Come here," Dean repeats, pulling him back onto the bed.

They lie side by side, in a mildly awkward silence, until Dean says lightly, "So did I pass the test?"

"Test?" Castiel frowns, looking at him in confusion.

"You know, 'you don't get to fuck me until I've fucked you'?"

"You make it sound like a transaction," Castiel complains. "And anyway, it wasn't a test," he huffs, absently running his fingers across he back of Dean's hand.

Dean interlaces their fingers, then, much to Cas's surprise. He looks at Dean, but he's still staring at the ceiling. When he squeezes Dean's hand, however, Dean squeezes it back and he thinks Dean is fighting back a smile.

"But yes, I'll let you fuck me," he says softly.

And then he knows Dean is smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Things change at school after that – at first Cas catches Dean looking at him in class, and then he thinks he's imagining it when Dean smiles at him across the cafeteria, but when Dean nods at him in the corridor and says _hi_ in passing he realised that things between them had shifted.

Dean, however, has to endure the taunting from his team mates about how he's well and truly whipped if he's letting his girlfriend stake her claim on him when they're changing for practice the next day, and Dean flushes because he hadn't realised that Cas had been so rough with his mouth. His chest is _covered_ in red marks, and he's just glad he didn't get on his knees last night because Cas's fingers would surely have left bruises on his hips.

* * *

They're back in Dean's car that night, and it feels wrong to be taking a step backwards, but then Dean pulls a blanket out of the trunk.

"I thought it would give us some more room," he shrugs, and he looks rather nervous.

As if Castiel has forgotten that he'd said Dean could fuck him. As if he's afraid Castiel has changed his mind. As if he's embarrassed about not-quite-asking Castiel if he minds doing it in the middle of a field, when Dean got fucked in the comfort of his own bed. But to Castiel, who has been on his knees in toilets and alleyways, the back seat of Dean's car is a comfort. Dean's bed was a luxury, he understands that, for they both have difficult situations with their parents. The ground isn't hard, and who knows when they'll get the opportunity to do it in a bed again.

He moves to Dean and kisses him, hands moving to his buckle. "How do you want me?"

"You want to do it now?" Dean asks. "Here?"

"Don't you?"

Dean says nothing – just stares at him – and Castiel thinks he's got it wrong. "You don't want to."

"Cas, I want to. But I get paid next week and I thought, I dunno, we could get a room at a motel or something."

"Oh. That's, um... Oh."

They take what they can get, when they can get it, and tonight it's just making out under the stars with their trousers kicked down around their ankles and their t-shirts on to keep the chill away.

. * * * .

True to his word, Dean gets them a room at a motel. He texts Cas and tells him to pack a bag, and that's all the warning he gets.

He tells his father he's going to be studying for a big school project, so will be staying over night at a friend's house, and he struggles not to laugh when his father says it's acceptable so long as this 'friend' isn't female.

"I know what you young boys today are like, Castiel, and I shan't have sleeping with some poor girl before you're married."

"Yes, Father," he says meekly.

"What on earth would God say if you got her pregnant?"

He tells Dean this when they're on their way to the motel and Dean nearly crashes from laughing so hard. But when Dean walks calmly up to the reception desk and tells them he's got a room booked for Winchester Castiel feels a sudden pang of something like jealousy, and he can't help but wonder how many times he's done this for a girl.

_Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm._ Dean chants this in his head like a mantra as he walks up to the girl at the desk. He tells himself that he isn't doing anything wrong as he asks for the key to the room he's booked, and though he's never booked a room for someone before he reminds himself that people do this all the time. When he walks back out and Cas looks up at him, he grins and shakes the keys with a confidence that he doesn't feel.

* * *

"I can't do this, Cas," he says an hour later, fingers slick with lube and poised over Castiel's ass. "I just can't."

"Dean—"

"Cas, you _shit_ out of there!"

Castiel rolls his eyes. "You didn't have that objection when I was fucking you. And I told you, I showered before you picked me up."

"Yeah, but—"

"Give me that!" Castiel snatches the bottle of lube from Dean's other hand and covers his fingers in it. "It's not that big a deal."

To illustrate his point, he spreads his legs and lets Dean see him sticking two fingers in his own ass.

Dean's jaw drops. "You've done this before."

"Sometimes I need a bit more than one hand when I'm jerking off," he shrugs. "And I'll admit – I stretched myself a little beforehand. I was afraid you might get bored."

"Fuck," Dean says when Castiel gets a third finger in. "I'm not going to get bored watching you like this, anyway."

"So you don't want to get your cock in me?" Castiel smirks, as he adds a third finger.

Dean strokes himself as he watches Cas's fingers at work, but then has to wrap his hand around the base of his cock and squeeze so he doesn't come too soon. He hadn't realised he was so close.

"I'm ready," Castiel announces eventually.

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you, Cas."

"Dean, I'm good."

"Okay." Dean lubes himself up and then he's pushing in and _damn Cas is so tight_.

"Easy! Easy!" Cas hisses.

"Shit, I'm sorry! No, not shit. Fuck! Now that's all I'm going to think—"

"Dean," Castiel says calmly, quietly demanding his attention.

Dean immediately focuses solely on Castiel. "Cas?"

"Shut up and fuck me."

As Dean slowly pulls halfway out of him before thrusting back in, Castiel wraps his legs around Dean's waist and crosses his ankles. He exhales slowly as he tries not to hear the words that have been playing over and over in his head for the past year.

"Harder, Dean!" he shouts. He needs it harder, needs to feel the burn that's just on the edge of painful, needs the distraction.

Dean slams into him, but keeps it controlled, and Castiel cannot put into words how grateful he is for that. But suddenly Dean stops.

"What?" Cas asks in confusion.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No. Dean, what gave you that idea?"

"You're crying."

Castiel lifts a hand to his face and, sure enough, his cheeks are wet. "Dean other than the fact I haven't come yet I'm fine, now for the love of God would you just shut up and fuck me!"

At first he thinks Dean doesn't believe him, but then he starts thrusting into him again – but not as hard as before. And he doesn't break eye contact with him – as if he's looking for any flicker of discomfort. Castiel pulls Dean closer and kisses him, and he can feel some of the tension slip out of Dean's body.

"Harder, Dean. Like before. Please." Cas groans. "I need it."

"I don't want to hurt you, Cas."

"You weren't hurting me."

"I don't believe you."

Castiel groans and rolls Dean over on to his back where he rides him, thighs working a punishing rhythm. It aches but it's better that way – better not to hear the voice echoing through his mind. Dean sits up, leaning back on one hand and gripping Cas's hip with the other as he meets each thrust.

"I'm so close, Cas."

"Same," Cas says, fisting his cock faster.

Dean comes with a deep groan, and collapses back onto the bed when he's completely spent, but Castiel is so loud Dean's sure the people in the room next door will have heard.

He laughs. "So that was good, then?"

Cas buries his face in Dean's neck. "Apart from you stopping in the middle, yes."

"I told you I didn't want to hurt you."

"Yes, you did," Castiel agrees. "Thank you."

All Castiel wants to do is fall asleep, but Dean has other plans – and when Castiel refuses to get out of bed Dean scoops him up and carries him through to the shower.

. * * * .

Castiel's at Heaven or Hell the next night, waiting for Balthazar, when Dean comes over to him.

"I thought you didn't come here any more," he says, nudging a chair out from under the table with his foot.

But Dean ignores the chair. "I don't. I was just looking for you."

"Sit down."

"No. Cas, I've just got to say—"

But in that instant Castiel knows what he's going to say and he can feel his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

"—it's been fun, but, I think we should call it a day."

Castiel just nods at first, not trusting himself to speak. "Fine," he forces out after a moment. "But you're right – it has been fun." And wonderful and different from anyone else he's ever been with.

"Good. I guess I'll see you around then," Dean says, straightening up.

"I guess you will."

Castiel sees Dean pass Balthazar on his way out, and once Dean's out of sight lets his tears flow.

"Oh, Cas," Balthazar says sympathetically as he sits and pulls the younger man into a hug. "I'm so sorry."

. * * * .

Castiel doesn't want to go to school the next day. In fact, he doesn't even want to get out of bed. But his father won't believe he's sick and sends him on his way.

He wants to ignore Dean. He wants to look at Dean and for Dean to look at him, and for him to come over and murmur apologies in his ear and to tell him that he loves him and...

Bela Talbot.

He wants to go up to Dean and scream in his face that he's got no self respect.

Bela _fucking_ Talbot.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Castiel makes it through the week on autopilot, and his father doesn't notice that there's something wrong with him. His father doesn't notice a lot about him, if he's honest. Little things, like those that Dean had noticed; the way his smile never reaches his eyes when he's having a bad day, so Dean would try to make him laugh; the way he falls silent when he's thinking, so Dean would stop talking until his brain gradually made its way back to him, a teasing grin on his face and "_It's nice to know I don't bore you!_" on his tongue.

On Friday night he switches his alarm off, hoping to sleep most of Saturday away because then he won't need to think about Dean and what an idiot he'd been to hook up with a guy like that.

Instead he wakes up early on Saturday morning to an empty bed and wonders briefly where Dean's gone, until he realises that he's not at the motel and he'd just been dreaming. Again. Dean haunts his every waking moment and persists to haunt him in his dreams. He sinks into his pillows and cries, because he hates himself for being weak. He's been through all of this before so he should have known better. He should be stronger than this.

Sleep eludes him after that, and hours later when his father bangs loudly on his door and shouts at him to stop being so lazy and get out of bed, he finds himself wondering if perhaps God _does_ give a damn about who you fuck, and if this is his punishment.

. * * * .

Dean, on the other hand, plasters a grin on his face at school and laughs too loudly with his friends. He doesn't know why he feels guilty, or why he feels like there's something missing, so he pretends that nothing's wrong and ignores Castiel when he sees him because the feeling is unfamiliar and it scares him. At home, however, he slams doors and plays his music at deafening levels and snaps at his dad and at Sam until his dad threatens to take the keys to the Impala until he stops behaving like a child.

He stops playing his music after that, and stops talking to his family because he can't trust himself not to bite their heads off when they ask how he is. And when he catches his dad looking through his room for drugs on Wednesday night he just shakes his head and leaves, spending the night in the back of the Impala at Bobby's and wondering if he'll ever be able to get the smell of Cas out of the leather.

It's stupid, really, because it's not like the car even still smells of him. Its just Dean's mind playing tricks on him. And besides, it's not like they were ever really together, so Dean shouldn't be this miserable about it. What does it matter if he'd spent ten times as long with Cas as he had any girl he's ever dated? They'd agreed 'no strings'.

He tries to hook up with Bela a couple of more times, but she won't have anything to do with him. They'd fucked, and he'd made sure it was good for her, but he supposed it had been obvious that he wasn't that into it, or her. And then he'd gone and let Cas's name slip and she'd flipped out. He can't blame her, really. Thankfully she'd thought he was referring to Cassie, though, so it wasn't the disaster it could have been. He takes Lisa out again one night but it doesn't end with sex, and a couple of nights later it's Cassie but he can't get it up for her - thankfully she's not the type to laugh in his face or spread it around - but after that he doesn't bother chatting up any other girls, because he knows he's off his game. It's not as easy as it used to be.

. * * * .

When Castiel can't take his own self pity any longer he goes to Heaven or Hell and drinks too much too quickly, and picks up the first guy who looks over and checks him out. It means that for a few precious minutes he can forget all about the baseball jock who broke his heart and get caught up in the thrill of anonymous sex.

It's only after the guy sucks him off that he realises that his eyes aren't hazel, but green, and that his hair isn't dirty blonde, but brown.

The buzz doesn't last long, however, and soon he feels worse than he did before. But instead of going home he finds someone else who doesn't care what his name is; just if he can get him off. It's a vicious cycle that Castiel is more than happy to let consume him, because it's better than the alternative.

When Balthazar tells him he needs to slow down, to take a step back and stop what he's doing before he loses himself completely, Castiel tells him to fuck off because really, what business is it of his?

. * * * .

Dean lasts two weeks before he finds himself driving to Heaven or Hell, and he hopes that Castiel isn't there. He isn't, but he tries to turn around and leave when Balthazar makes a beeline for him.

"Oh, no you don't," Balthazar says, gripping arm tighter than Dean would have believed possible and dragging him to a table. "Sit. Drink?"

Dean frowns. "No, thanks."

"Chuck, can we get two beers, please?"

"I said I didn't want—"

"Shut up," Balthazar tells him.

Dean falls silent, drumming his fingertips off the top of the table until Chuck brings their beers over.

Balthazar takes a sip of his, eyeing Dean over the edge of his glass until he does the same, and then places his glass in the centre of his beer mat.

"I've seen you around with various girls these past few weeks," he says coolly.

"Yeah? So?" Dean spits defensively, thinking that Balthazar's a hypocrite if he thinks he can lecture him about casual sex.

"So, I was just wondering about you and Cas."

"What about me and Cas? There is no me and Cas," Dean corrects himself.

"I thought you and he were... you know."

"We hooked up. We saw other people. Isn't that how it goes? I mean, you should know."

"Yes," Balthazar agrees. "Except that in the past couple of months Castiel hasn't hooked up with anyone else." He pauses, and takes another sip of his beer. "Not even me."

Dean doesn't know what to say.

"I don't know, I thought maybe the two of you had... gotten serious."

"No."

"Did Cas know that?"

"Yeah."

"If you say so."

"Yeah, I say so," Dean snaps.

Balthazar holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright. But I know he let you fuck him."

"That's got nothing to do with you," Dean starts. "I may sleep around, but I don't fuck and tell."

But Balthazar is shaking his head. "You're missing my point. He let you fuck him. He doesn't let anybody fuck him. Ever."

"Not even you?" Dean mocks.

"No," Balthazar says, and Dean looks surprised. "Not even me."

Dean actually looks likes he's starting to listen to what Balthazar has to say.

"Did he ever mention Lucifer to you?"

"Lucifer?" Dean echoes sceptically.

"That'll be a no, then." Balthazar takes a few mouthfuls of beer. "Ordinarily I wouldn't say anything because it's Castiel's business, but I think you'll make the right call when you hear what I have to say."

Dean reaches for his beer, for he has the feeling he's going to need it.

"Long story short, he's a dick. A great big bag of dicks, if you hear this story from my cousin. Anyway, he's the reason Cas is how he is."

"I don't follow."

"Casual," Balthazar states. "No-strings."

But Dean is still frowning.

"Whether Castiel knows it or not, he wants a relationship. But his one with Lucifer left him so fucked up that he gets any sense of self-worth from the number of dicks he gets – literally _and_ figuratively."

"What do you mean fucked up?"

"For that, you'll need to ask Cas. But only do that if you're ready to make the right call."

"You keep saying that – the right call. What do you mean?"

"At least you're pretty," Balthazar sighs. "I really don't know what else he sees in you."

"Huh?"

Balthazar stands. "You'll get the bill, won't you?"

He doesn't leave Dean much of a choice because he walks away without waiting for an answer. Dean absently reaches for his beer and finishes it. Then, seeing as he's paying for it, he figures he'll finish off Balthazar's as well. He reaches for his wallet and leaves some money on the table, before leaving. He needs to go for a drive to clear his head.

. * * * .

Dean doesn't go back to Heaven or Hell in the next two weeks. Nor does he talk to Castiel.

But he does look at him.

He looks broken, Dean realises. Like something (or someone) had opened him up, cut out the part that made him feel, and stitched him back up again.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realises that Castiel had changed during the time they hooked up. He'd opened up more, and Dean realises that he did, too. When they'd lain together in the back of the Impala, Dean had talked about his parents, and Sam, and his hopes and dreams – all the stuff he didn't think anyone gave a shit about – and Castiel had listened, because he _did_ give a shit.

And that just makes feel guilty.

And cowardly.

Because if he'd understood Balthazar correctly, Castiel wanted a relationship but didn't think he deserved one... or was afraid to have one... or something like that. At any rate, he didn't let himself get involved.

But he did with Dean.

And Dean had done the same, only he'd run away from it.

He's an asshole.

Cas deserves to be happy.

He deserves better than Dean.

It takes him another week to work up to going back to Heaven or Hell to find him.

. * * * .

"Cas," he says, when he sees the familiar trench coat. "I thought you hated that coat?"

Castiel ignores him.

"I was hoping to run into you," he says conversationally.

"Why?" Cas holds himself stiffly, like he's a statue.

"I wanted to talk."

"We've got nothing to talk about," Castiel states.

"I think we do."

"Well I disagree!" he snaps, moving for the first time to glare at Dean.

"Well so do I!" Dean argues, meeting his cold blue gaze unflinchingly.

They stare at each other, until finally Dean looks away. "Please, Cas." He looks up, and he thinks he can see a quiver of doubt in his eyes so he pushes him. "Please. Hear me out, and if you don't like what I have to say then I'll never talk to you again."

He can see the exact moment Castiel's resolve breaks.

"Fine. Talk."

"Not here."

Castiel glares some more, then stands. "Fine," he says again.

Dean leads him out to his car and Castiel climbs in without a word. He drives without thinking, the silence in the car deafening because for once he hasn't thought to put any music on, until they reach Bobby's land and he thinks that of course he'd drive them here. He climbs out of the car and is vaguely aware of Castiel doing the same.

"Cas, I—"

"Did you use me?" Cas cuts him off, surprising himself with his outburst as he unleashes the hurt he's been bottling up since they stopped seeing each other. He can't say _broke up_, because they were never together.

"What? No!"

"Because that's what it feels like! You used me to get your gay kicks and then dumped me like last week's trash!" Cas shouts, and he knows he's being unreasonable because it was only ever supposed to be fun, but he just can't seem to shut up.

Dean thought he was supposed to be the one doing the talking. "No, Cas. No. It's not like that—"

"Then what is it like, Dean? Tell me!" he yells.

"I freaked out, okay?" Dean screams back and he swallows, because he isn't meant to be shouting. "We went further than I ever meant to and I freaked out."

Castiel stares at him. "Why are you here, Dean?" Castiel says quietly, shaking his head like he doesn't understand. "Why did you come to find me?"

"Because Balthazar told me about Lucifer and I—"

Dean falls into a stunned silence when Castiel slaps him, and it's almost comical how Castiel goes from furious to scared in a nanosecond.

Castiel's hand flies up to his mouth. "Dean, I..."

Dean steps towards him and places his hands on Castiel's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Cas," he says, looking him straight in the eye.

Castiel is breathing heavily, but shakes his head. "No, Dean."

Dean frowns in confusion.

"You shouldn't be sorry. It was me—"

"Cas—"

"—it was me who said it was temporary and meant nothing, and it was me who was stupid enough to fall in love with you, and it was me who didn't tell you about Lucifer and—" Castiel stops when he realises that Dean is looking at him strangely. "What?"

"You love me?"

Castiel looks confused at first, but then it hits him what he's just said and his confused look changes to one of horror, like he wants to deny it but has forgotten how to speak.

So Dean takes advantage of this moment and kisses him. Their conversation hasn't gone the way he'd planned, but he was still here trying to make the right call.

Castiel lets out a muffled "Mmph!" of surprise, but soon starts kissing him back hungrily.

"I'm sorry," Dean mumbles in between kisses. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Castiel murmurs each time. "Don't be."

They fumble their way into the back seat of the Impala, where Dean whispers apologies to every inch of Castiel's skin that he can find.

"I love you," he whispers when he finds Castiel's mouth again.

* * *

"So I guess we're still a big secret," Castiel says afterwards.

Dean doesn't say anything.

"That's okay," Castiel says. "I can deal with that."

"Cas, you shouldn't—"

"So long as there are no girls," he adds, his tone final.

Dean shakes his head. "No girls," he agrees guiltily. He knows it's not fair on Cas, but he needs to figure out if and how he can tell his dad that his straight son has a boyfriend. He presses a kiss into Castiel's ruffled hair. "We'll figure it out," he promises quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Castiel comes over to Dean's house the next day. "I hope it's okay that I came round," he starts, unsure if it's too soon or if Dean's home is out of bounds seeing as they're not officially dating. Hell, they're not even officially friends.

But Dean smiles. "Yeah, sure. Just let me grab my keys, okay?"

Castiel nods. He hears Dean yelling to his dad that he's heading out, and immediately understands why they're leaving. They get in the car, but it takes him a moment to realise that Dean isn't driving out to Bobby's.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"I thought we'd grab lunch. If that's okay," he adds.

"I don't have any money—"

"I've got it, Cas."

"I can't let you—"

"Call it a date."

Castiel falls silent, and as he casts a sideways look at Dean realises that he's flushing. He rests a hesitant hand on Dean's knee, which Dean takes in his own and squeezes gently, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Pie?" Castiel asks when he sees where they're stopping. "For lunch?"

"Of course!" Dean grins.

"Of course," Castiel repeats to himself, as if to have thought any differently was madness.

* * *

"So was there a reason you came round, or did you just want to hang out?" Dean asks when they've both got enormous slices of apple pie sitting in front of them.

"I thought you should know the whole story of me and Lucifer," he replies, dropping his gaze to his plate.

"You know you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Dean says.

But Castiel shakes his head. "You need to know."

"Okay," Dean says, and reaches a hand out to sit on top of Castiel's.

"I'd known I was... different... since I was fifteen, but I didn't act on it for two years," Castiel starts. "I knew how my father would react, and Anna had only recently left so things at home were already tense. I found out about Heaven or Hell and visited it several times, but never actually worked up the courage to talk to anyone. Then Lucifer offered to buy me a drink. He was the first person to notice me; to make me feel that... that it was _okay_ to feel like this. He was nice," Castiel added, almost as an afterthought.

"Of course he was," Dean says through gritted teeth.

"He was a university student, so a good few years older than me. He took me out nice places, bought me nice things..." Castiel stops. "But when I said I wasn't ready for _other things_, he changed." Castiel laughs bitterly. "I should have known with a name like Lucifer."

Dean moved his hand from where it was resting on top of Castiel's so that he was holding his hand, and gave it a slight squeeze.

"He told me that I owed him – that he'd given me so much and I'd given him nothing."

"Dude, that's not how it works."

"I know. Now. Then I was... young. Naïve. I thought he knew better than me."

"You're still young, Cas," Dean tries to joke, but it falls flat.

"I know, but last year was a lifetime of dicks ago," Castiel smiles bitterly. "I'm not as green as I was then."

Dean opens and closes his mouth, unable to find the right words to say.

"I thought I loved him. With my sheltered upbringing it never crossed my mind to think that he didn't love me, so I let him fuck me," Castiel says. "He used me, and he dumped me the next day. Told me I was worthless, and no good for anything other then a quick fuck."

Dean stares at him in silence, a look of sheer disbelief on his face. He's unable to comprehend how anyone could do something like that to anyone, let alone Cas.

"I believe his exact words were, 'You're only good for how far you can spread your legs'," Castiel adds, and it's clear that the pain Lucifer caused him still haunts him.

Dean shakes his head. "That's bullshit, Cas. You're worth more than that."

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel smiles. He sniffs and blinks back tears. "But it wasn't so much that I believed him, bur rather that I'd only ever felt good about myself when I was with him that I ended up as one of Heaven or Hell's regulars. If I could make someone else feel good, I felt good about myself."

"That's some twisted logic."

"I know. And it hurt, when he... Anyway," he shakes his head, for he's said enough about Lucifer. "I met Balthazar after - I guess you could say he picked up the pieces. But I promised I'd never bend over for anyone ever again."

"You did for me," Dean says quietly.

"You were different," Castiel says, not quite able to meet Dean's gaze. "Or at least, I wanted you to be."

Dean swallows.

"When you left me the next day, I thought about Lucifer for the first time in months. What you said – that it had been fun – Lucifer said that."

Dean's stomach clenches with guilt.

"I thought maybe he was right. I've been rather busy, these past few weeks," he mumbles to his pie.

Dean squeezes Castiel's hand and he looks up. "I'm sorry."

"Something was missing this time round, though," Castiel continues as if Dean hasn't spoken. "I didn't feel good about myself. I hated myself. I hated them. I hated what I was doing." Finally Castiel looks back up at Dean. "I missed you."

"I'm here now," Dean says, and he knows he should say more but he doesn't know the right words to say, and the way Castiel's face lights up as he smiles for the first time since they sat down makes him think that maybe those three words are enough.

For now.

. * * * .

On Monday Dean's hanging around the lockers with the rest of the baseball team when he sees Cas, and he grins at him. Castiel nods a hello as he makes his way to his locker, and Dean is so busy watching him that he tunes out of his team mates' conversation for a moment. He's kind of glad to see Cas has ditched the coat in favour of that sweater again, if he's honest.

Suddenly his team mates are laughing. "Sorry, what?" he says, looking at each of them in turn and wondering who'll catch him up.

Gordon rolls his eyes. "Where did you go, Winchester? I said I wonder how much it would cost me to get that whore to suck all our cocks after the big game – but then he's such a slut for dick that he'd probably do us all for free!"

Everyone laughs again, except Dean is staring at Gordon with a look of such fury that he takes a step back.

"Dean, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Dean says nothing – just punches him in the face and walks away like nothing happened.

* * *

"Cas, you look a mess," Dean says as he lets himself fall against the lockers. It hadn't been clear from where he'd stood with Gordon and the others, but Cas's hair was messier than usual and there were dark bags under his eyes.

"I spent the night on Balthazar's sofa."

Dean's stomach clenches. "Why?"

"My dad found out about me and kicked me out."

"What? Cas, how?"

Castiel smiles, and loks rather pleased with himself. "I told him."

"You... I thought you didn't want him finding out?"

"I didn't. But I got fed up pretending to be something I'm not. He assured me that he'd make everything okay, and that he had some savings he'd use to send me to one of those camps where they 'cure' homosexuality."

"Cas, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Anyway, he wasn't happy when I politely declined his offer and informed him I had a boyfriend who would disapprove, so he kicked me out. I think he meant for that to give me second thoughts, but I told him I was leaving anyway."

"Christ..."

"I turned up on Balthazar's doorstep and he said I could stay."

"You didn't even have somewhere to stay when you left?"

Castiel shrugs. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"With both brains," Dean jokes, and Castiel chuckles.

"Why did you punch Gordon?" he asks then.

"He's a dick."

"What did he do?"

"It's more like what he was joking he'd do."

"Which was..?" Cas pressed.

"Getting you to suck the team off if we win," Dean admitted reluctantly.

"All of you?"

"Yeah."

"At the same time?"

There's a playful twinkle in Castiel's eye and finally Dean does laugh.

"You wouldn't lower yourself to the baseball team, would you?" he grins.

"Oh, I don't know. One of them is pretty cute," Castiel teases.

"Cute! Kitten's are cute, Cas. I'm handsome!" Dean grins.

Dean sees Castiel's tongue flick out and wet his lower lip subconsciously and knows exactly what he's thinking. To hell with everything, he decides then. He presses Castiel up against his locker and kisses him. He can hear the wolf whistles of his team mates who think it's a joke at first, but when they realise it's more than that their cheers turn to jeers.

"Come on," he says. "We're getting out of here."

"But we have class," Castiel protests, but nevertheless letting Dean lead him away.

"Not any more. Come on."

* * *

They drive into the city and go shopping, then after lunch they catch a film. It's nice, just the two of them, and Dean even puts his arm around Castiel's shoulders as they settle down in the back row. By the end of the film they're too busy kissing to notice that the lights have come up and everyone's left, until a member of staff ushers them out.

When Dean pulls up outside Balthazar's, he turns to Cas. "I'll tell my dad tonight."

"Dean, you don't have to—"

"I want to."

Castiel hesitates. "Do... Do you want me there?"

"Yeah," Dean admits. "Yeah, I do. If you want to be there."

"I do."

"Okay."

Castiel doesn't get out of the car and Dean turns around and heads back home.

"Wait out here," Dean says once they pull up at Dean's home and get out of the car. "I don't want dad taking it out on you if he doesn't like it."

Castiel hugs him. "Balthazar's sofa is a pull-out bed – there's room on there for two," he whispers in Dean's ear.

Dean smiles, and pulls away. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, okay?"

Castiel kisses him. "For luck."

Dean smiles and opens the front door. "Dad?" he calls as he walks in.

"In here, Dean!"

Dean walks into the living room and stands in the doorway.

"Well? Aren't you going to take your coat off?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Is it the car?" John Winchester says immediately.

"No, she's fine."

"Did you get a girl pregnant?"

"What? No!"

"Then why do you look so damn terrified?"

Dean opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

"Just spit it out, son."

"I, uh..." he trailed off uncertainly. Telling his dad had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now that he's actually standing in front of him, he isn't sure he can get the word out.

"Dean?"

He thinks of Cas waiting outside. Of how Cas would smile and nod understandingly if Dean told him that he couldn't go through with it, even though there would be pain and disappointment in his eyes. "I have a boyfriend," he mumbles to the floor.

"What?"

"I have a boyfriend," he repeats, slightly louder this time.

"A boyfriend?" John echoes in surprise.

"Yeah."

John lets out the breath he's been holding. "God damn it, boy, I thought something was wrong."

Dean's head jerks up, brow furrowed in confusion. "Dad?"

"Well, you come in here all serious and scared and who knows what else, so what am I supposed to think? How long have you been seeing him?"

"I don't know." Dean shrugs vaguely. "A couple of months?" he says, suddenly wondering exactly when he and Cas became something more than what they'd intended.

"Good."

"So you're not... disappointed?" Dean frowns warily, for his dad was taking this far better than he could ever have hoped for.

"You think I'd love you any less?" John asks, surprised and hurt that Dean would think that. "I mean, it's a surprise, yes, but it's about time you found someone you dated for longer than a week. But... Are you sure this is what you want? That you... swing that way?"

"You _do_ have a problem with it!" Dean accuses.

"No, Dean, I don't," John assures him. "It'll just take some time to get used to the idea after all the girls you've dated - I could never keep up with their names - but I do _not_ have a problem with it. I'm just worried about you. About both of you. Not everyone's going to accept it."

"I know."

John moves to stand in front of Dean so that he's forced to look at him. "I'm not going to lie – I've always pictured you getting married to a pretty young girl and me taking the grandchildren every Saturday. But you can't help who you fall in love with."

Dean can't stop the grin that spreads across his face.

"You do love him, don't you?" John raises an eyebrow knowingly.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do."

"You know your Grandpa Campbell didn't like me much when I started seeing your mom," John confides.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Um, how do you think Uncle Bobby and Sam'll take it?" he asked.

"Sam loves you. He couldn't care less. As for Bobby, well," John pretends to think about it. "I say he'll probably kick your ass for thinking it'd change the way he cares about you."

Dean chuckles.

"But at least this explains your attitude had the past few weeks," John says.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Dean apologises. He knows he's caused a lot of tension in the house lately, and it's probably contributed to some of the arguments dad and Sam have been having.

"No, it's alright. Trouble in paradise is a lot better than anything else that was going through my mind. I was worried that you'd gotten into something illegal."

"I'm sorry," Dean repeats.

John hugs him. "You know you could have come and talked to me about it, son."

"I didn't think I could," Dean admits, glad that his face is buried in his dad's shirt because he's sure he's flushed red with shame.

"You can come to me with anything," John tells him. "Now, when do I get to meet this boyfriend of yours?"

"Uh, now, if you want," Dean says, rubbing a hand across his face because _damn it_ he's not about to start crying. "I mean, he's waiting outside—"

"Outside?"

"Yeah—"

"Well bring him in, Dean! I didn't raise you to leave guests on the front porch!"

Dean hurries to the door where he stops, and turns around.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Um, his dad's really religious and he kicked him out."

"You mean he needs a place to stay?" At this, John looks wary.

"No, he's staying at a mate's."

John looks relieved.

"But he's sleeping on the sofa," he adds, conveniently forgetting to mention that the sofa is a sofa _bed_.

"And..." John prompts, ushering Dean to get to the point.

"And with exams coming up its not exactly the best studying environment so I was wondering if, seeing as you don't have a problem with us, if he could stay here?" Dean bites his lip because he knows he's pushing it.

John looks conflicted, for he doesn't know this boy that Dean's dating but at the same time doesn't want Dean to think it's because he's gay. "We haven't exactly got a spare bed to offer him."

"He could sleep with me."

"Dean—"

"It's not like I'm going to get him pregnant!" Dean argues defensively.

"I still haven't met him," John points out, trying not to think about the ins and outs of gay sex that are flashing through his mind at Dean's protests. "One step at a time."

Dean opens the front door to find Cas crouched over a shrub, intently watching a bee move from flower to flower. "Uh, Cas?"

Castiel jumps to his feet and turns around, looking at Dean questioningly.

Dean beckons inside with a tilt of his head. "Come in."

Castiel follows Dean through to the living room.

"Cas, this is my dad. Dad, this is Cas."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Winchester," Castiel says formally, hand outstretched.

"You, too," John tells him, shaking his hand. "But call me John."

"Yes, sir."

"Son, I left the military a long time ago. Just John."

"Alright... John," Castiel says, as if being forced to say something unpleasant.

"Dean, get some drinks."

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, not happy about leaving his dad and boyfriend alone when they'd only just met. He hurries to pour three glasses of lemonade, but when he gets back his dad and Cas are laughing.

* * *

In the end Castiel stays for dinner, and he and Sam hit it off right away.

"Son," John says to Cas as Dean is putting on his coat to take him home.

"Yes, sir? I mean, John?"

"Dean tells me you're sleeping on someone's sofa."

"Yes. It's more of a—"

"Let him talk, Cas," Dean interrupts quickly, before his little white lie is revealed.

Castiel frowns, but shuts up.

"I don't know you all that well, but you seem like a nice enough kid. If you want, you could move in here with us. More specifically, with Dean."

Dean grins.

"On a trial basis," John warns. "If you'd like that."

"Are you sure that's okay?" Castiel asks, looking from John to Dean, and back to John again. "I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"If I thought it was going to cause a problem, I wouldn't offer. I asked Sam what he thought when we were washing up, and he's all for it. So what do you say?"

"Say yes, Cas!" Dean urges.

"Dean, let the boy make his own choices!" John scolds him, but he's smiling.

Castiel grins. "I'd like that very much, sir."

Dean whoops. "Can he move in tonight?" Dean asks eagerly.

"If he wants, but remember – trial basis," he warns them.

"Yeah. Cool. Come on, Cas – we'll go pick up your stuff." Dean practically pushes him out the front door.

"Balthazar will be glad he can start bringing people home again," Castiel says once they're in the car.

Dean laughs.

"You asked your dad if I could stay, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

. * * * .

Later that night they try to keep quiet as they make out under Dean's covers, for the last thing they want is John or Sam hearing them.

"Dean," Cas moans, pushing him away. He loves kissing Dean – of course he does – but sometimes Dean gets overeager.

"What?" Dean frowns.

"I don't know if it's possible for your tongue to get cramp, but I really don't want to find out."

Dean sniggers. "Maybe if it did you'd finally shut up about redecorating!" he jokes as he presses gentle, chaste kisses to Castiel's lips. (The first thing Cas had done upon moving in was insist that Dean take down his _Busty Asian Beauties_.)

"I'm gay, and you're dating me – you don't need pictures of women with fake tits to jerk off over."

"Who says they have fake tits?" Dean exclaims.

"Sh!" Cas hisses, gesturing frantically and placing a finger over his mouth.

Dean bites his lip and listens for any sign that they might have woken his dad or Sam up, but there's only silence to be heard so he breathes a sigh of relief. "Who says they have fake tits?" he repeats in a whisper.

"Dean, have you _looked_ at them?"

But Dean doesn't answer – he's too busy sucking red marks along Cas's collarbone.

"Dean..." Cas groans, the hardness in his boxers impossible to ignore.

"You like that?" Dean grins, his mouth moving teasingly lower.

"Hmm," he sighs in response, head tipped back as Dean sucks his way down his chest. Then his boxers are being slipped down and Dean's mouth is around his cock, his tongue teasing at the slit. It feels glorious, but that's not what he wants – so with great reluctance he fists his fingers in Dean's hair and tips his head back. "No, Dean."

"Cas, It's okay," Dean insists, thinking that Cas still has Alastair on his mind. "I want to do this."

"But I don't want you to."

"Oh."

Cas feels a stab of guilt at the disappointment at rejection in Dean's voice. "I want you to fuck me," he tells him.

"Cas, are you... sure? Because we don't have to—"

"I _want_ to."

"Okay," Dean breathes. Then he smiles. "But you're not exactly quiet."

"I can be when I need to be."

* * *

Minutes later Cas is on his stomach with his knees tucked up underneath him, when suddenly Dean laughs.

"What?" Castiel frowns. It's not exactly flattering when your ass is on full display and your boyfriend chuckles.

"Do you remember the last time I did this?"

"As I recall you _didn't_ do this," Castiel teases over his shoulder.

"Hey – I've had a lot less experience than you!" Dean protests with a grin.

Castiel's eyes flick down and he turns away.

Dean rubs a hand – the one that doesn't have fingers dripping with lube – along Cas's hip, part reassurance and part silent apology. "I meant with guys," he says softly.

Castiel smiles sadly and looks at him. "I know. I just... I wish that you'd been my first."

Dean swallows, because _I love you_ is one thing, but this... "Maybe I'll be your last," he offers eventually.

Castiel's face lights up, because how did he and Dean get here? "Maybe," he smiles back.

Dean slips a finger inside, and he doesn't think he's ever going to get over the fact that such a small hole can stretch to take his cock. When he slips a second finger in and crooks them so they rub across Cas's prostate, Cas bites the pillow and lets out a long, low moan.

"I thought you were going to be quiet?" he teases.

"If you're going to _try_ to make me shout out, we're not going to be able to do this at all," Cas scolds him.

Cas is right, unfortunately, but Dean promises himself that he'll work Cas up one day when his dad and Sam are out. He's been doing research (and by research he means watching porn) and he's eager to show Cas what he's learned.

There are more muffled moans as he slips his fingers in and out, twisting and thrusting, scissoring and stretching, and after a while Cas is begging to be fucked.

Cas turns over onto his back while Dean spreads a generous amount of lube along his dick, and when Dean is all the way inside he wraps his legs around him and pulls him down closer. What they have now is so different to anything that Cas has ever had before, and it's intimate and terrifying, but also beautiful, and as Dean begins to move he thinks that _this_ is what sex should always be like.

Dean soon quickens his thrusts, and he leans in closer to whisper in his ear. "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that, Cas?" he says. "I love you. I love you so much. You're my best friend, Cas, and I never want to let you go."

His never ending stream of words give Cas something to focus on other than the pleasure building in his belly, helping him fight back the noises that are threatening to escape his lips, and just as he's about to come Dean kisses him like he _knew_ that Cas was close, and he swallows down all of Cas's moans.

"I love you."

"And I love you," Cas tells him, flipping Dean over and snuggling down next to him. _To hell with cleaning up_, he thinks, as Dean wraps his arms around him pulls him closer.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my God you guys! When I started uploading this story I had no idea it was going to be so popular! I mean, almost 100 followers? I think that's amazing. I love you all. And thank you so much for your wonderful comments - it really is awesome to know that you loved reading this story as much as I loved writing it - honestly, you can see the number of visitors and followers go up each week, but it's the reviews that really make you feel that people are looking at your story and enjoying it.**

**Now, I have some good news and some bad news... D****o you remember right at the start I said that this story had 8 chapters? Well, the bad news is that you've just finished reading chapter 8. ****The good news, however, is that I'm currently writing chapter 9! I decided that I didn't like the original ending so have started reworking it, which means that there will be an extra chapter up hopefully sometime in the next couple of weeks.**


	9. Chapter 9 & Epilogue

Chapter 9

Things get difficult at school after that. No-one gives them any trouble, but then again no-one goes out of their way to tell them that they don't have a problem with it, either. It's okay though, because they've got each other. Dean's biggest problem is during practice – Gordon and the rest of his so-called 'mates' have taken to ignoring him completely whenever they're not making snide comments about Cas. He refuses to drop out of the team though, because he knows they'd love that, so he just grits his teeth and tries his best to ignore them.

And it doesn't matter that his dad's declared that he's completely fine with Dean's newfound homosexuality – or bisexuality, or whatever – because he always feels like he's walking on eggshells at home, and Cas is beginning to notice the way he always puts an extra few inches of space between them when John's in the same room as them, or the way he stiffens when Cas kisses him, or the way he'll squeeze Cas's hand when it slips into his but then pulls away again.

But Cas isn't the only one who's noticed.

* * *

"Dean?" John asks him one evening when Sam is at a friend's and Cas is in the shower. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Dean nods.

"How's the exam studying going?"

"Good."

"Because I know you've got another game coming up, and you know that Bobby would cover your shifts if you needed the extra time, right?"

"Yeah."

John pauses. "And I know that now, obviously, you're going to be wanting to spend a lot of time with Cas..." John trails off when he sees Dean stiffen. "Is everything okay with you two?"

"Yeah," Dean frowns. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know, you tell me – living together can kind of take the shine off a relationship."

"We're good."

"Then is Cas happy here? I have to ask, because I can't help but notice that you look a little... distant, with each other."

"Me and Cas are fine."

John nodded. "Okay. But if ever do want to talk about it – about anything – I'm here. I mean, I know I've not exactly got any experience with guys, but—"

"It's fine, Dad," Dean says, standing. "We're fine."

But John notices the way Dean can't quite look him in the eye. "Is this about me?"

"What? No!" Dean exclaims too quickly. "Why would you think that?"

John leans back in his chair and just looks at him. Eventually, Dean sinks onto the sofa again because he knows his dad's caught him out. He doesn't say anything though, because he doesn't know what to say.

"You know, when I was in Vietnam there was this marine in my unit – Steve – and he was the bravest man I knew," John says conversationally. "He saved my life."

This catches Dean's attention, because his dad doesn't talk about his years as a marine, and _never_ talks about his time in Vietnam.

"The war was just ending, and we all thought he was going to get a medal recognising his bravery. But instead of giving him a medal, they gave him a dishonourably discharge – all because he was gay." He lets that sink in for a moment. "Dean, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. And neither would you or Sam. So if you're _still _worried that I love you any less just because you're dating a boy, I want you to think about that."

And without another word, John stands up and leaves the room.

. * * * .

Dean tries to think about Steve and the fact that he's been good and strong and brave as well as gay when people don't stop hassling him at school, but their comments keep escalating, trying to provoke a reaction from him, until one Friday they're at practice and Gordon jokes about grabbing Cas after school and fucking him with a baseball bat, and that's when he loses it. He breaks Gordon's nose and knocks two others to the ground before the coach pulls him off and sends him back to the lockers to get changed. He gets kicked off the team after that, not that he's surprised, and he knows he's lucky he doesn't get detention, or worse, suspended. He goes straight up to his room when he gets home, which is where Cas find him half an hour later, packing a bag.

"Dean?"

Dean guiltily follows Cas's gaze to his bag. "Uh..."

"Are you running away?"

"What? No!" he laughs. "No." When Cas just looks at him, awaiting an explanation, he licks his lips and sighs. "I'm just going to go and visit some friends for the weekend, okay?"

Castiel nods understandingly. "I know that I've cost you your friends here, so—"

"They were never my friends, Cas. I mean, I thought they were, but if this is how they're going to be then I guess I was wrong. Jo and Ash are different, though." He pauses. "You should... You should come with me. Ellen's not exactly wanting for space."

Castiel pulls away. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," he says quietly.

"Hey," Dean says, gently grabbing his wrist and tugging him back. "They'll like you."

Castiel bites his lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Dean kisses him. "Come on – pack some stuff. We'll head up tonight, and be back for school on Monday."

* * *

It's a long drive to spend less than two days with the Harvelles, but Dean figures they deserve a break. And he's right when he says that they'll like Cas, though he doesn't tell them until Saturday night that they're together so that they all have a chance to get to know him first.

Their reactions are supportive, however Jo is pissed that Dean hadn't told her right away. Ellen just nods when he tells her because she's already figured it out based on the looks and little smiles they've not-so-carefully been giving each other, and Ash just laughs with delight when he finds out Cas is gay and that Dean is 'favouring the D, now', because it means more girls for him.

. * * * .

Knowing he's got the support of his whole family now (because Ellen and Jo are more than just family friends) and being able to get away for a couple of days makes the following days easier, and though Dean misses out on the last game of the season not having to go to practice after school means that he picks up a few extra shifts at Bobby's. He likes it there, because no-one treats him any differently and he needs to concentrate on what he's doing so he doesn't have a chance to think about anything that's weighing him down. The garage almost becomes his safe place, until one day he hears a familiar voice outside and his blood runs cold. Then Bobby shouts for him.

"Dean!"

Dean briefly considers climbing out the back window so that Bobby needs to get someone else, but Bobby comes looking for him.

"Dean. Car for you."

"Sure," he says thickly, wiping his greasy hands on his overalls. Bobby points him in the direction of the customer waiting at reception and heads back to the office. "So what's wrong with your car?" Dean asks, thinking that maybe Alastair won't recognise him.

"Dean," Alastair drawls, a sinister smile stretching across his face until it resembles a grimace. "I trust you've got a little more experience with cars than... _other_ things."

Dean shivers and tells himself that it's just the cold, but it's complete bullshit because it's seventy degrees which is hot for April.

"What's wrong with your car?" Dean asks again.

"It doesn't always want to start."

Dean pops the hood and leans over the engine.

"Well that's one angle I didn't get to see the last time we met," Alastair says, licking his lips appreciatively. "I think I prefer you like this."

Dean's phone beeps after five minutes, and he knows he shouldn't have it on at work but he flips it open anyway. Sometimes Cas sends him inappropriate texts for when he goes on his break, and often Dean struggles to keep a straight face. But today he's just checking what time Dean's supposed to finish because they were talking about going to see a movie later that night.

"Hmm," Alastair smiles knowingly. "Boyfriend?"

Dean snaps his phone shut without replying and puts it down next to his tools. He knows that if he tells Bobby the guy is hassling him he'll send him away, but he doesn't want Bobby to lose any business over him so just grits his teeth as he gets to work. He can feel Alastair's eyes on him the whole time and it takes him longer than it should, but when Alastair finally drives away with a brand new spark plug installed Bobby takes one look at him and sends him home.

"You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I don't feel so good," he admits.

He checks his phone once he gets in his car to see if he has any more messages from Cas, with the intention of replying to the one he sent earlier. He does have one text, but he doesn't know the number, and when he views the image he feels sick. He's on his knees in the back alley at Heaven or Hell, and his face is flushed red and covered with Alastair's come. He switches his phone off without replying to Cas and drives home, ignoring his dad when he gets in and mumbling at Cas to please leave him alone.

When Cas comes to bed later that night he doesn't say anything; he just quietly slips under the covers and drapes an arm over Dean, pulling him close. And for once, Dean doesn't complain about being the little spoon.

* * *

The next day Dean's got a free first period and though he'd usually give Cas a lift to school he sleeps in instead. John sticks his head round the door before he goes to work and tells him that if he doesn't feel up to going in then maybe he should just stay in bed. But the longer Dean lies in bed, the more time he has to think about Alastair, so he heads in to school even though he's tense and distracted in all his classes.

Cas comes up to him at lunch, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him before telling him, "I missed you this morning."

That's all it takes for Dean to snap, because Cas is worried about him when he should be worried about his university applications. He's applied to five different universities, none of them in Kansas, and Dean hasn't applied to any. Cas says he's missed him, but when he leaves after the summer it's going to be _Dean_ missing _Cas_, and then Cas is going to meet someone better than him, someone who isn't going to be stuck in his hometown working for his dad's mate all his life, and then Cas isn't going to come back.

Dean pushes him away a little too roughly. "Damn it, Cas, you're so freaking _needy_ all the time!"

Cas takes a step back, a hurt expression flashing across his face before he straightens and walks off.

"Cas," Dean calls after him, regretting it immediately.

But Cas is gone.

* * *

Dean feels guilty because it's not Cas's fault that he's been off today, and he _hates_ that Cas ignores him in and between classes. He tries to apologise and explain after the final bell's rung, but Cas doesn't even let him get two words out.

"I don't want to hear it, Dean. And I won't let you drive me home because I wouldn't want to be too _needy_!" he snaps.

"Lovers spat, Winchester?" Gordon taunts from across the car park.

Dean ignore him, but he does consider reversing into Gordon's Camino as he plays an old AC/DC cassette at deafening levels, but he doesn't want to damage his baby so just waits for Sam to come out of class.

They don't drive past Cas on the way home, and Dean wonders if Cas took the long way just to avoid him. He sighs, and doesn't follow Sam inside. Instead he sits and waits on the front steps for Cas to arrive.

* * *

Half an hour passes, and there's still no sign of Cas. He hears the front door open and close, and then Sam's sitting beside him.

"Maybe he just needs to clear his head," his little brother offers.

Dean shakes his head. "I fucked up, Sammy. I was mad at something else and I said something I didn't mean in the heat of the moment."

"Just tell him that."

"He wasn't happy, Sam."

"So make it up to him."

"I don't know how," Dean admits. "I'm kind of new at the whole _relationship_ thing."

"So's Cas," Sam points out.

"So what's the story with you and this Becky chick who keeps calling, anyway?" he asks, desperate to change the subject.

Sam screws his face up. "Becky likes me, but I don't like her, and Chuck is head over heels for Becky but she just doesn't notice him," he summarises.

Dean chuckles, but then Sam elbows him in the side and he snaps his head up. "Cas!" he exclaims, racing to his boyfriend's side as soon as he registers the blood on his face. "What happened?"

"Gordon," Castiel said, as if that explains everything.

Which it does, Dean supposes. "I'll beat the shit out of him."

"No," Castiel pushes him away and shakes his head. "Leave him alone. And leave me alone."

"Cas, would you shut up and let me apologise? Okay, I _know_ I fucked up earlier."

"You can't keep shutting me out every time you freak out that you're dating a _guy_, Dean" Castiel hisses, aware that Sam's still watching them. "It's not fair on me, and it's not fair on _us_!"

Dean stares at him. "What? Cas, you've got it all wrong!"

Castiel frowns. "But you've been acting strange, lately," he says, and Dean can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to devise another logical scenario for Dean's behaviour. "And then at lunch today—"

But Dean shakes his head vehemently. "It was just weird at first, being around Dad. And as for lunch..." Dean bites his lip, because he _really_ doesn't want to talk about it yet Castiel needs to know. Then Castiel's hands are around his and he finds his voice. "Alastair came to the yard yesterday," he says quietly, and finds that's all he needs to say because Cas's arms are around him and he thinks he's forgiven.

"Oh, Dean," Cas murmurs. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Now, at least. I don't know, I guess I just thought I'd never see him again and when I did..." Dean trails off with a shrug, because looking back maybe he'd overreacted a bit.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Cas asks him.

"I tried after school, and you just blew up in my face."

Castiel looks abashed at that. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. For what I said – it's not you who's needy, Cas. It's me. I _need_ you."

He's afraid that Cas will laugh at him, tell him that he needs to grow a pair, but Cas just smiles and kisses him.

"I need you, too," he smiles.

They stay out on the front steps until John calls them in for dinner, but Dean can't shift that feeling of unease over the fact that Cas is going to be leaving him after summer. John's made chicken pot pie, with apple pie for dessert, and Dean wonders what's up because two pies in one meal? Dean's birthday was months ago.

"You'll remember we agreed that Cas staying here would be on a trial basis?" John asks once everybody's sitting down.

"Yeah," Dean says quickly. "And we've never used up all the hot water in the mornings, we've replaced whatever we've eaten, we've kept the noise down, we've been safe—"

"That's more than I needed to know, son!" John laughs. "I'm not kicking him out."

"Oh," Dean relaxes. "Good."

"I'm asking him to move in permanently."

Dean grins, and he doesn't realise he's been that worried about it until he doesn't need to be, because it just feels so normal having Cas in the house now.

"Thank you, John," Castiel says.

* * *

After dinner the three Winchesters gather around the TV to watch a film, but Castiel politely excuses himself because he'd like to go and study. John raises a questioning eyebrow at Dean, who assures his dad he'll go up later and do some studying before he goes to bed.

When he does finally make his way upstairs, he finds that Cas has cleared six year's worth of crap off his desk so that he has a space to study at. He creeps up behind him and presses a kiss into his ruffled hair.

"Dean, I'm studying," Cas protests.

"So why don't you stop studying physics and start studying biology instead," Dean teases.

"I'm not taking biology."

"You could help _me_ study it."

"You're not taking biology either," Cas points out distractedly, because _an alpha particle of mass 6.7 × 10^-27 kg is moving with an initial velocity of 1.0 × 10^7 m s^-1 directly towards a fixed stationary gold nucleus__..._

"That's not what I... Never mind. Just come to bed."

"Dean, the longer you distract me the longer it will take me to finish this paper."

Dean lets out an exaggerated groan and collapses onto the bed. "Fine," he says. When Cas doesn't turn around, he frowns. "Fine," he repeats, and sighs heavily.

After several minutes of rereading the same question while hearing Dean sighing and groaning and fidgeting behind him Castiel turns to him, fully prepared to launch into a lecture about how he's behaving like an annoying, petulant child when he stops, because he's not prepared to see Dean lying naked on his bed, legs spread, slowly fisting his cock.

"About time you turned round," he grinned.

"You are very, _very_ distracting," Cas tells him, moving towards the bed with all thoughts of the velocity of particles and nuclei forgotten.

Dean smirks. "Even physics geeks need their study breaks."

"Hmm," Cas agrees, gripping Dean's ankles and pulling him forwards so that his ass rests on the edge of the bed, before sinking to his knees. He moves Dean's hand away from his cock and puts his mouth around it instead.

"_Fuck!_" Dean hisses. Every time he's blown away by just how damn _good_ Cas is at this. And it's when they're like this, just the two of them, that he thinks that maybe they _can_ make everything work out.

. * * * .

Epilogue

The week before their exams are due to start Cas comes into the kitchen waving a sheet of paper excitedly. "I got accepted!" he announces with delight.

"Where to?" John asks, because he can't remember everywhere Cas had applied to.

"Stanford."

Sam grins. "That's awesome, Cas! That's where I'm hoping to go when I graduate."

"Easy, bitch – you've got another four years of high school to survive, yet."

"Jerk! If I want to be a good lawyer then that's where I—"

"Boys," John cuts him off with a sigh. "How many times do I need to tell you both _not_ to call each other names?" It's harmless and they won't stop, but he feels like he should put up some mild form of protest.

When Dean starts washing up, everyone notices how careless he is with the dishes in the way they clank loudly against one another.

"I thought you'd be happy for me," Cas says dejectedly to Dean after John's gone to work and Sam's gone to meet up with Becky and Chuck.

"Happy that you're leaving me behind? Happy that you're going to start living your life without me? I'm sorry, but I can't," Dean says, and he doesn't mean to snap.

"It's not the other side of the world, Dean! I can come back at holidays, or you can come out to California."

"I'll be working," Dean says automatically.

"Not _every_ weekend. Bobby does give you holidays."

Dean shrugs. "Not a lot of them."

Castiel has learned to see things that Dean won't let anyone see in the months they've been together, and right now he can see that Dean is trying not to show just how afraid he is that he's going to lose Cas – that Cas is going to find someone better than him. He's just surprised it's taken him this long to see it.

"Dean," Cas says, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at him. "I love you. You're right – this is my life. And I want you in it."

Dean grins, but he doesn't hold on to too much hope.

. * * * .

The weeks pass by in a blur of lessons and studying and exams until suddenly it's graduation and Dean feels sick because where did his childhood go? This is supposed to be when his life's supposed to start except it doesn't feel like anything's changed. Dean smiles for his dad's brand new digital camera, bought especially for today, despite the twisted knot in his stomach that's making him want bend double and throw up until there's nothing left inside him. He can't wait to escape, but Cas is insisting on saying goodbye to all his teachers from the past six years. They all try to hide their surprise at the fact Dean and Cas ended up together, but don't quite manage it. Cas is oblivious, of course, because he's far too excited about starting the next chapter of his life. (Cas's words, not Dean's.)

Once they're in the car heading home, however, Castiel goes quiet.

"Cas?" Dean says, nudging him gently.

"My family might hate me, but I thought they'd at least have turned up," he says quietly.

"Well, we're your family now, Cas!" Sam says happily. "You'd be a better big brother than Dean – you won't tease me and will help me with my homework!"

"As if you need any help!" Dean grins. "But he's right, you know," he says to Castiel. "You're family."

. * * * .

Bobby gives Dean some more shifts over the summer until he's almost working full time. On his days off he spends all his time with Cas, trying to cram in as much time with him as he can before the summer is over and he tries not to count down the days until Cas has to leave.

Their exam results come through eventually – Castiel has passed everything with flying colours, not that Dean expected any different. It takes him two hours to open his own results because he doesn't want his disappointment to ruin Castiel's good mood. Eventually he does, though, if only because Bobby and Ellen keep calling to find out. It turns out that even he passed everything, to no-one's astonishment but his own, so maybe he's not as stupid as he thinks he is.

. * * * .

The weeks keep flying past, and Dean can't stop counting the days until he has to say goodbye to Cas. The number gets single figures far too quickly, and on the day it reaches nine Dean goes to work and throws himself into his job, wanting to concentrate on something that isn't Cas leaving for six hours, and when he finishes up Bobby's standing waiting on him.

"Is something wrong?" Dean asks him.

"That's what I was going to ask you, boy."

"I'm fine."

"Fine my ass. Do I look like I was born yesterday? You're boyfriend's moving almost two thousand miles away in just over a week's time so don't you take me for a fool. Now how are you really?"

Dean looks at the scuff marks his feet are leaving in the dirt. "I want him to go. I want him to be _happy._ But I also don't want him to leave."

Bobby nods, satisfied at getting an honest answer out of him. "You know, I know a guy. Rufus. He owes me a favour. I called him earlier and you've got a job with him if you want it."

"You're firing me?" Dean exclaims.

"No I'm not firing you, idgit!" Bobby rolls his eyes. "I got you a damn job in California so you can quit your moping. If you're going to be this miserable for the next four years I'm going to drink myself into an early grave."

Dean freezes. "What?" he asks in stunned disbelief.

"You heard. Now get out of here."

Dean doesn't remember launching himself at Bobby, but one minute he staring at him and the next he's got Bobby's beard scratching his ear.

"Get off," Bobby says gruffly, but there's a pink tinge to his cheeks and he looks pleased. "Now go home before your dad starts calling me wondering where you are."

Dean feels like he's walking on air when he gets in, and John looks at him like he's liable to pass out.

"Are you okay?" John asks him.

"Bobby got me a job in California," he tells them, still processing the fact himself. "If I want it."

Then Cas is nearly knocking him off his feet like a whirlwind and it's a good thing he shut the door because his back collides with it.

"Hey! Easy, Cas!"

"I didn't want to leave you behind," Cas mumbles into his ear. "I knew you were worried so I was trying to act like everything was okay but I didn't want to leave you behind."

"So you think I should accept it, then?" he grins.

"Dean Winchester, I will kill you if you don't!" Cas all but shouts at him, but the threat is lost in his wide grin.

And that's how Dean finds himself hurriedly packing the last of his and Cas's things into the Impala the next weekend and trying not to cry as he hugs his dad and Sam goodbye.

"We'll be back for Christmas," he promises them. "So don't think you can get away without buying us any presents!"

John chuckles. "We wouldn't dream of it."

"I want postcards from everywhere you stop along the way!" Sam insists. "I'm going to tack them to the map on my wall."

"We're just stopping to sleep – we're not going sight-seeing," Dean grins, hugging Sam. And it's weird, because Sam's grown over the summer and they're practically the same size. "You'll need to stop growing because I'm supposed to be the big brother!" he jokes, and Sam laughs.

"Dean, as much as I don't want to see you leave, you've got a long way to go," John reminds him. "So you can't stand around on the porch hugging everyone for the rest of the day."

"Bye, Dad," Dean says, as John pulls him into a final hug.

"Bye, son. Drive safe."

"You bet."

"Take care of him, Cas," John shouts as they drive away.

They wave until they're out of the street, and Cas promises not to tell anyone that Dean had to pull over just outside of Lawrence because he couldn't see the road for tears. Half an hour after they left the Winchester residence, they're finally on their way west.


End file.
